


So I'm the Dragon

by chailattemusings



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Body horror tw, M/M, blood tw, emotional abuse tw, gore tw, injury tw, physical abuse tw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-02 22:12:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 40,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2827880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chailattemusings/pseuds/chailattemusings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kirin is a guardian; he watches over the Twilight Forest and guards the magic of the overworld, always wary of imbalances he needs to correct. When Parvis' blood magic starts to get out of hand, Kirin travels to his castle to investigate, but instead of a bloodthirsty Parvis, he finds Will Strife, with glowing alien skin and decked out in powerful armor. Kirin's curiosity is piqued, and before he knows it, he's formed a bond with Will. But their friendship can't erase the danger Parvis poses to the land and the people around him, especially with Will as the test subject for all his rituals. Kirin has to find a way to break Will from a relationship that Will doesn't want to escape, and stop Parvis' magic before it ends up hurting someone, all while trying to contain his own powers, which threaten to break down the human vessel Kirin calls his own body.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This piece was done for the Yogcast fandom Big Bang of 2014.
> 
> The art was done by the lovely Cera at ceranovis.tumblr.com.

Kirin's base had multiple layers of protection over it, in the form of spells, wards, and chaotic weather. But, time and time again, members of the Central Circle-- or rather, _one_ member of the Central Circle-- proved that those protections were useless against those with enough magical power.

The only warning that someone new had entered the base was the sudden tingling at the back of Kirin's neck, the sense of extra magic in the air that did not belong to him. Kirin had long grown used to the ability to track certain types of magic, and this particular brand felt familiar, comforting, and perhaps a bit hostile at the edges. Kirin put down the chalk he'd been using to repair his latest circle, and made his way downstairs, where the magic was strongest, making his nose itch and his fingers tingle. Kirin flexed them as he peered around the doorway to the small, black room, where Lying liked to make themselves known.

Flickering their ponytail and adjusting their hat, Lying stepped down from the wooden steps they had appeared on top of, blinking in the bright lights of Kirin's home. Kirin stood up straight to greet them, rewarded for his effort when Lying finally looked up, and their eyes locked.

“You,” Lying said, “have been a very naughty mage.”

That was expected, and even welcomed. Kirin rolled his eyes and smiled. “What, I don't even get a hello? No enthusiastic greeting from my old friend?” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I thought we would run into each other's arms, it's been that long.”

“Several months.” Lying shook out their robes and brushed past Kirin, walking without ceremony into the main level of the building. “Hardly enough time for a teary eyed reunion.”

“But long enough that you've come to berate me for whatever transgressions I've made against the Central Circle, hm?” Kirin followed Lying to the front entrance, where they stopped with their hands clasped behind their back, turning on their heel to look at him.

“Your magic is erratic,” Lying said, and tilted their head towards the hall going deeper inside the base, and the many pieces of equipment Kirin had gathered over the years. “Regeneration, deaths, summonings, all of which would be _fine_ ,” and Lying stretched his lips around the word, “if it were not done so frequently, and without supervision.”

Kirin smirked, and shrugged, turning to go back to his altar and the circle he had been repairing. Lying huffed behind him, following with quick steps. Their heels clicked over the wood floors, and their clothes slapped wetly with each movement, always slightly damp from the magic of the well that they'd been trapped in. Kirin didn't ask about the well; it had been established as a forbidden topic.

“I don't have time for this,” Kirin said, when he started tracing the edges of his circle again. “I have a few things to clean up around here, and then I'm leaving. There are more important things to tend to than the ire of the Central Circle.”

Lying bristled. “The coven members are concerned.” They said it as though they themselves _weren't_ concerned, though Kirin knew very well that they were, or they wouldn't bother coming at all. The motives and questions of the Central Circle mattered as much to Lying as they did to Kirin; that is, to say, they mattered only when it aligned with their personal goals.

Finished with his circle, Kirin brushed his hands clean of chalk, running them down the legs of his robes. “ _I'm_ concerned,” he said, turning to walk past Lying to his thaumaturgy room. “There has been activity in the south,” he continued, hearing the click of heels and harsh tapping of Lying's fingers against the wall, scraping over the surface as if to gouge the wood. “I have to investigate, and there isn't time to appease the Central Circle about my private matters.”

“Privacy is something you gave up when you joined.” Lying's anger had faded, forced to wait as Kirin double checked ingredients and looked over his machines. They were more annoyed at being ignored than anything else, now.

“Hardly, since you only show up once in a blue moon.” Kirin stood at his full height, towering over Lying, and ruffled their witch's hat. Lying sputtered, grabbing tight to the material to keep it in place and stop the movement from tugging their ponytail. “If you want to come,” Kirin offered, gesturing to his shoulder, “feel free. Otherwise, I can tell you that I'm not doing anything to jeopardize the Central Circle.”

Lying wrinkled their nose. “I wouldn't stoop so low as to involve myself in the habits of mortals.”

Smiling, Kirin ruffled Lying's hair, and strode to the front door of his house. Lying following, lingering in the doorway, as Kirin pulled his robes tighter and shook himself out, loosening his muscles for a long trip. “In that case,” Kirin said, “enjoy the empty house while I go to deal with this problem.”

Kicking off the ground, Kirin took to the sky, feeling the magic course through him as he rose. Flying was a familiar sensation at this point, as comfortable as walking, and Kirin flew up with ease and speed. He glanced down, catching sight of Lying still on his porch before there was a flash, and a suspicious curve of shadows where there hadn't been any. Lying had left, then. Kirin turned his face toward the sky and set out.

Magical activity wasn't something Kirin could say was part of his domain; unlike the Circle, which had ties to its members to track what they did, Kirin didn't have a way of reaching every magic user in the area. But he'd spent a lot of time around magic over the years, and it blended into his very skin. Surrounding himself with it felt as natural as a plant stretching towards the sun, and Kirin could feel it when a major shift occurred.

In the far south, a dangerous change had come from a large island, one that Kirin happened to know was occupied by a man called Parvis. Kirin sped forward, hurrying on his journey. If there were one thing he didn't want to see go wrong, it was blood magic, and the area around Parvis' island positively _reeked_ of it.

The castle that Parvis had taken over sat on a large landmass in the middle of the ocean. Parvis had claimed the abandoned place for himself, showing it to Kirin with an eager smile and wide gestures the last time he had visited. It looked the same as it had then; looming and empty, made of endless amounts of stone brick, without any touch of humanity to it. Parvis cared more about intimidation than he did being perceived as friendly or accommodating on any level.

Except--

Kirin stopped in midair, eyes narrowed as he gazed down at the stone castle. It was surrounded by a farm, and blood ritual supplies, on one side, and several trees on the other, and he had thought those to be the only sign of plant life. But in his time since his last visit, several sunflowers had cropped up in the courtyard, around the small fountain just inside the main door.

They were still cropping up, in fact. Kirin's eyes stopped when they spotted a pile of unplanted sunflowers and, beside them, a small man with a lithe frame and blond hair. He was hunched over the dirt, and placing another sunflower in it, packing the soil around the roots to keep it standing upright. Upon closer inspection, the other sunflowers also had freshly dug soil at their bases.

Kirin recognized the man immediately as William Strife, one of the nonhumans of the area. They had met before, when Kirin came to inspect Will's home, the Solutions Tower, but he'd left after Will gave a failed sales pitch, and they’d had a brief encounter after that when Kirin had asked him to kill a liche.

The man had machines and supplies galore. What he was doing planting sunflowers at Parvis' base, Kirin had no idea.

It was connection enough to investigate, though.

Kirin descended from the skies, and Will looked up when he was within a few hundred yards. His entire body went stiff, hands tight at the base of the sunflower, and Kirin had to suppress a laugh as Will hurried to stand and brush the mud off his palms.

He landed in the courtyard without ceremony, robes billowing around him, lightning trickling down his body as the magic burned itself to a stop.

Will stood tall on heeled boots, armor shining in the sunlight. It might have been practical to remove it for a task so mundane as planting flowers, but then, the strong stance and harsh glare told Kirin that Will would rather be safe than practical.

The heavy bags under Will's eyes put a damper on any threat he might pose.

Will took out his disassembler from a convenient attachment to the waist of his armor, swinging the heavy metal in his arms, letting it rest at the level of his hip. “Kirin,” he said, eyes narrowed behind the visor of his armor. “What a surprise. I'd thought you were too occupied with your lightning storms to pay a visit to Parvis.”

Kirin smiled, an empty gesture. “I always have time for powerful magic practitioners, Strife.”

Will frowned. “This isn't the Solutions Tower, and therefore not a business proposal, so let me ask, what is it that you want?”

Tracing his eyes over Will's figure, Kirin pursed his lips. Will stood as tall as he could manage, almost reaching Kirin’s shoulders, but his heeled feet weren't as steady as they should be, and if Kirin looked closely, he could see the movement in his legs, Will preparing to spring the moment he had an opening. He held the disassembler straight up, to strike, but his other hand flitted briefly to the clasp of his exoskeleton armor, double checking the latches to be sure of its security around his body.

As Will brushed over the latch at his wrist, just below the hand holding his weapon, Kirin's eyes caught on something pale and glowing.

Will cleared his throat. “I said, what do you _want_?” He said it stern and heavy, and Kirin's eyes snapped back up to Will's face, the thin lips and furrowed brow. An angry kitten came to mind, although Kirin didn't doubt that Will could do some damage if he really wanted to.

Like this, ready for a fight and practically snarling, Will wouldn't be giving Kirin any of the information he might want concerning Parvis’ practices. But the glowing on Will's arm, underneath the armor, beckoned Kirin's attentions again. He forced himself to look away from it, up to Will's cheeks and the speckling of green freckles over the skin.

“I was checking in on Parvis,” Kirin said slowly, gaze flicking to the castle. “I haven't heard a word since I first taught him the basics of blood magic, and I'm not so consumed by my own tasks that I can't come to see an old apprentice.” All those ages ago, Parvis had stumbled onto Kirin's property and begged Kirin to show him the ropes, claiming that his assistant had run off in the midst of an explosion and that he needed the help. Clearly, Will had found his way back to Parvis since then, and their blood magic had progressed, if the thick taste of magic in the air was any indication.

Will bristled, shoulders hunched and legs drawing tight for a jump. He said, “Parvis is doing fine. I'm working with him, although his potty mouth wizard magic isn't getting him very far.”

Kirin arched an eyebrow. “Oh? Is that so?”

Will straightened his back and puffed out his chest, the glowing freckles of his cheeks burning a shade brighter. Kirin watched them with a curious eye. He'd seen Xephos' skin and the way it glowed, especially in the dark, and he knew Xephos and Will were of a similar breed. He'd never had the chance to properly observe Will, though.

“Of course,” Will said, staring Kirin down. “I have to guide him at every turn. He'd be lost without me.” Defense was heavy in his tone, though Will kept his voice level, calm, and assured. A true businessman, protecting his assets while hiding his doubt from the competition.

Kirin chuckled. “I'm sure he would be, Strife. Tell me, does guiding him involve copious amounts of sunflowers in his courtyard?”

Will turned to look behind him, green blush flaring. Will wiped his free hand over his armor, dislodging any remaining dirt, and clutched the disassembler tighter. His knuckles when white around the staff, holding it like a life line. “It brightens up the place. What's it to you?” Will tilted his head, eyes narrowed. “You claim to be visiting Parvis, and yet you haven't even asked where he is.”

Will Strife was clever, if not the best at hiding his own motives. Kirin blinked, and nodded. “So I haven't.”

Will waited, obviously expecting Kirin to ask now that it had been pointed out. But Kirin stayed where he was, hands clasped behind his back, staring down the alien boy who held onto his weapon as though something of wire and electricity could stand a chance at stopping Kirin from doing whatever he pleased.

He'd had interactions with Will before, although they mostly consisted of Kirin flying over Will's property at the Solutions Tower, and Will telling him to get out of the skyline before his storms caused an errant lightning bolt to hit his building. Kirin would never be so careless with the storms that followed his presence, but he enjoyed the frown that pulled at Will's lips when the threat loomed. Beyond that, he knew very little of Will Strife.

The way he stood, holding his weapon and glaring at Kirin, told him enough about the exterior. “Well,” Kirin said, taking a step back, “I'll leave you to your gardening. If Parvis isn't here, I won't waste any more of your time.”

Will opened his mouth, and closed it. Kirin grinned; his guess was correct.

“See you around, Strife.” Kicking off the ground, Kirin gave Will a mock salute. It took no time at all to reach the height of the sky, Will blinking into a small dot below him.

 

* * *

 

A good night's sleep cured all, or at least Kirin assumed so, for humans. How much like a human Will actually was, he didn't know, but it had to be more than Kirin. Sleep would help with the bags under his eyes, and Kirin distracted himself with potions until the sun rose and he could fly to Strife Solutions, thinking of green freckles and raised hackles.

He had better things to do than visit Will again, but if Parvis was pushing blood magic too far and was currently nowhere to be found, Will was Kirin's best option.

As it did whenever he traveled-- and he didn't have the energy to forcibly calm the weather-- a storm front followed Kirin to Will's home. Heavy, grey clouds gathered in the sky, and thunder rolled in the distance. Kirin reveled in the taste of natural magic dripping through his veins, and touched down gently on the hill where Will had built his tower.

The dark bricks loomed over the orange and yellow trees, a stark contrast, and no doubt the vibe Will had been going for. Kirin strode up the stairs leading to the front door, knocking heavily. He could hear the sound echoing through the room beyond, but not much farther.

Kirin's neck tingled, and he patted over the skin, digging his nails in. The edges of his fingers sparked, and Kirin shook his head, dislodging the excess magic threatening to spill over. The property had very little magic overall, but he could sense tinges of blood magic, the taste of it too familiar on his tongue to forget. If Parvis wasn't here, he'd left a strong impression on Will.

The shock on Will's face when he opened his front door to find Kirin towering over the frame, looking down to meet Will's eyes, almost made laugh bubble out of Kirin. But then Will's eyes hardened, and he stood tall, taking the same posture he had at the castle.

The bags under his eyes hadn't faded.

“Kirin,” he said, brow furrowed. “I don't appreciate magicians on my doorstep, especially so soon after seeing you. Can I interest you in any business, or are you just here to pester me some more?”

Snorting, Kirin said, “To pester, I suppose. Am I not allowed to pay a casual visit to one of my neighbors? Or, are the witches the only ones you give a friendly presence to?”

Will slipped in his facade, mouth opening and a gasp falling from his lips, before he snapped his mouth shut. “If you don't want anything, then kindly get off my lawn.”

Kirin tilted his head, looking Will up and down. He still had the thick armor on, a black and red exoskeleton covering his chest and limbs, with small spaces between the joints where he could see Will's suit peeking out underneath. There was no dirt left on his hands from the day before, but they flexed near constantly, as if ready to grab a weapon or slam the door in Kirin's face. His jaw was tight, staring Kirin down as best he could with the height disadvantage.

Kirin had never seen something so _fake_ before.

Even considering the very real power of the weapons and machines, Will stunk of an _image_. Kirin cracked a smile, and said, “Do you have time for a cup of tea? You must have something to make a decent cup, with all those machines humming away in there.” As long as he were out to find out about Parvis, he might as well satisfy the growing itch around Will Strife's attitude.

Besides, if Kirin asked Parvis anything about his own powers, Parvis would seize the chance to brag and bray about how good he was. Will, on the other hand, seemed like an honest man, as far as his word, even if the Tower and his attitude hinted at something else.

Will mustered up a scoff. “Don't ask for tea unless you want to discuss a business transaction over it. I would offer you genetically modified animals or enhanced armor for a fair price, but I have a feeling that your unreliable _magic_ gives you everything you want.”

“Unreliable? Oh, Strife,” Kirin practically purred, “I don't see you bringing storms where you go and summoning demons at the snap of a finger.”

“I don't see _you_ creating horses with the ability to grow infinite wool, but then, magic and science don't really compare, do they?” Will's arms twitched, like he wanted to hit something, or maybe cross them over his chest in a decidedly defensive motion. Kirin's eyes cut down to his hands, peering under the edges of the armor.

Again, he saw a pale glow, running lines down the back of Will's arm, before he looked at his face again. “Genetically modified horses?” he asked, leaning just far enough to the side that he looked unbalanced. “And how, pray tell, does one go about doing that?”

Will's eyes narrowed, nostrils flared. “Why should I tell you?”

“I have plenty of machines to supplement my magic, Strife. You seem to think I'm at odds with it.” Kirin nodded vaguely toward the interior of the tower, past where Will stood in the doorway. Meeting his eyes directly, Kirin said, “I wouldn't mind seeing what kind of equipment you have, whether it's up to par with mine.”

“It's far better than anything that anyone else around here has,” Will said, following Kirin's gaze into his tower, before quickly snapping his head back, keeping a trained eye on him.

“I don't doubt it.” Kirin let his eyes wander over the armor clasped over Will's torso and arms. “That armor set is impressive, too. How long did it take to make it?”

Will relaxed, ever so slightly, as he held up an arm and put his other hand over it, pressing against the sleek metal. “Oh, this? Quite a while, but mostly because I had to gather the resources necessary. Those witches don't like heavy mining equipment, so it's a matter of building something discreet that still gets the job done, before I set out to make anything too advanced.”

Caught, like a fly in a trap. Kirin tilted his head. “What kind of mining equipment?”

Will hesitated, and gestured inside. “If you're interested, I can show you. Maybe there's something I have that you'd like a copy of? I _do_ have some of the most advanced equipment, although the competition around here isn't very stiff.” Will's brow furrowed briefly, before smoothing as he looked up at Kirin directly.

“It would be nice to have a look.” Kirin waited, and smiled when Will stepped aside, letting him in the door.

Inside Solutions Tower, the heavy hum of machinery covered the floors. The architecture was good, no doubt, with strong bricks and rafters built into the walls, to both hold them up and break the monotony of squares. The colors suited Will, or at least, they suited how he acted now, striding past Kirin to one of the counters against the wall. He grabbed a round pot, scurrying to a sink to fill it up before setting it over an electric furnace.

“Strife?” Kirin asked.

“You wanted tea, didn't you?” Will turned, still tense, but his shoulders had relaxed, and the armor didn't look quite so heavy when he wasn't standing on his toes to try and even out their height difference. “I may be a business man first, but I'm a good host second.”

Kirin hummed, scanning his eyes across the first floor of the tower and picking apart the machines Will had laid out, wandering over wires and tubes and generators. He could feel his magic sparking, running down his neck and over his fingers, tingling at the base of his tall horns.

“Hey, cut that out!”

Startled, but careful not to let it show, Kirin turned and blinked at Will. “Pardon me?”

“Your electricity,” Will said, waving a hand to gesture at Kirin's body. “Don't let it touch my machines. You break something, you pay for it, understand? I haven't spent months setting this place up only for you to dismantle it in the span of a few minutes.”

Kirin laughed, but reined in his magic as best he could, cutting the edges off before the sparks sizzled down his skin. His lightning affinity served him well, and Kirin had long ago protected his own home to avoid the dangers of accidental fires and wayward shocks, but he could curb the release of energy for the sake of keeping Will's metaphorical lid on his anger.

When the hot water boiled, Will prepared a quick cup of tea and handed it to Kirin before leading him through his home, down to the basement, where he had an efficient mine set up.  

Will set off almost immediately on a rant, about how much power he could generate and how efficient his system was, how he'd built parts of it in less than a day and how it was constantly running, dependable enough that Will didn't have to worry about it unless it suddenly broke, something against which he took numerous precautions.

Kirin watched him walking around his power system and pointing things out, and held the cup of tea without drinking it. His eyes were fixed on the exposed back of Will's neck; a dangerous point to leave open, for all that his armor protected the rest of his body. The back of his neck had more freckles, in thicker clusters than the ones on Will' s face, and they glowed faintly. This room was darker than upstairs, and the freckles stood out.

They reminded Kirin of the way his own skin glowed when the magic broke through the surface.

At the top of Will's spine, visible just under his shirt, was a mark. Kirin nodded when Will turned to him, smiling to assure Will that he was paying attention, and zeroed in on the mark when Will faced the machines again. It was a cut, straight and pale, reaching from the left side of Will's neck down to the right side of his back, only a few inches, but glowing like the freckles. A thin sheen of skin covered it.

Kirin couldn't peer for long, as Will looked at him again. “I imagine your system runs on magic rather than electricity and fuel,” he said, with that frown tugging the corners of his lips.

“I have fuel as well,” Kirin said, curling his fingers around the tea cup. It had gone lukewarm, the steam no longer burning off the top, and sloshed when Kirin moved. “You underestimate how well I can play with machines, Strife.”

“But magic always wins out over technology, doesn't it?” Will's eyes drifted up, fixing around the base of Kirin's horns. “Are you really interested in this,” Will asked, looking Kirin in the eye again, “or is this some ploy to tear up my tower?”

“Please.” Kirin laughed. “If I wanted to destroy the place, I would have done it by now. I was simply curious as to how you operate. I'm afraid I must be going, though.” Setting the teacup down on the nearest surface, Kirin straightened, and beamed at Will. “Thank you for showing me this.”

Will brought his shoulders up, freckles coloring a brighter shade of green. “You're welcome. Tell me if you ever want me to set up something similar, I have a price range that's very reasonable for a job like this.” He waved his hand to gesture to the machines behind him.

Kirin nodded without saying anything, backing out of the room and making his way to the front. Will followed him with quick steps, taking four steps for Kirin's two just to keep up with him. Kirin opened the door himself, careful not to let errant magical lightning burst into the circuits, and, spinning on his heel to face Will, he said, “I'll see you around, Strife.”

“I would rather you didn't,” Will said, and went stiff at the admission. “Not unless you have business to conduct, in which case, give me a warning before you drop in unexpectedly.”

Kirin grinned, showing teeth. “Ever the fair businessman, Strife. Goodbye.” And he lifted, into the air, with a final wave. Will watched him, eyes narrowed, until Kirin was too high to see his face as more than another shape in the sky.

Kirin would definitely be visiting again.

 

* * *

 

Kirin had become, simply stated, a pest.

Will had frowned at the sky the day Kirin left his tower after his first proper visit. The man had smiled and spoke to Will about his machines and how impressive it all was, but he'd left without another word on the subject, and Will couldn't help the skitter of suspicion down his skin at such an abrupt exit.

And he hadn't drank his tea, which was just bad manners as a guest.

Will had hurried back inside the Solutions Tower, adjusting his armor and going back downstairs to pick up the teacup. He washed and put it away, and pulled out his clipboard to resume his latest work on establishing a restaurant franchise. It was slow going, without a good way to advertise his coming work, but Will knew if he played his cards right, he could have all his local neighbors eating his food and paying good money for it.

That took up the rest of his day, and the next few days after that, sitting in peace in his tower or trekking outside to clear the land he needed for the restaurant. It was made of dark wood and sandy ground, reminiscent of a desert, and he thought the foundations complimented Solutions Tower.

Three days after Kirin had paid his intrusive visit, Will was going over his checklist again, and there was a knock at the door.

Will stopped, tense, and took stock of his own body. But his ampullae were calm, no sense of strong electricity in the air. So it wasn't Kirin again, at least. And unless the witches were finished with their summonings, for which they'd come to Will's door asking for spare glass just the other day, then it could only be one other person.

“Will!” the nasal voice called from the doorway, forcing his way in without waiting for Will to open the door. “Will, where are you?”

Sighing, Will put his clipboard away and went to the front door to greet Parvis. The sight of him, arms covered up to his elbows in blood, cliché black band t-shirt, and ruffled hair, was as unsurprising as the bright smile he donned when he caught sight of Will. “Strifeykins!” Parvis cooed, walking up to him and stopping just short of slamming into Will's chest. “Where've you been, you silly thing?”

Will gestured to the room around them. “Working,” he said, and it might have been more sarcastic if he didn't know that Parvis was completely serious in wondering where he'd been. It took a very short amount of time for Will to learn that when Parvis expected something of someone, he accepted no excuses for them _not_ doing it, including the fact that they hadn't been told what he wanted.

Clearly, Parvis wanted him to be doing something, but what is was, Will hadn't the faintest idea.

“Well, well, well,” Parvis said, clicking his tongue. “Your machines are going to have to wait. Do you _know_ how long it took for me to find this place?” Parvis stuck his hands in his pockets, uncaring for the red stains that scraped over the cloth, and rocked back on his heels. “I thought you were due at Castle Parv, and you haven't shown your ugly mug all morning.”

Will resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I was there just last week, Parvis.”

“And,” Parvis took a hand from his pocket to sling it around Will's shoulder, drawing him so close that their heads nearly knocked together, “now it's time for you to come back. Finish up whatever thing you're doing here, and follow me back.”

Will shoved at his chest until Parvis let him go, huffing. “Fine. Give me ten minutes.”

Parvis gave him five, before he started whinging pathetically, poking and prodding at Will's equipment and complaining of boredom. Will dropped the wrench he'd grabbed to adjust a few wires before they left, and yanked Parvis away, and Parvis used the momentum to crash into him, wrapping his arms around Will's waist, cooing in his ear about needing to _leave_ so he could start his latest spell, because without Will he worried about containing a possible explosion.

Putting his hands on Parvis' shoulders, careful to avoid the bloodstains on his shirt, Will said, “You are the most impatient person I have ever met.”

“But you _love_ me.” Parvis rubbed against his neck, and stood back, grinning. “Come on, Will, we've got a lot of work to do.”

With a resigned sigh, Will tucked away the last of his equipment and pulled his armor on. He'd taken it off, planning to let his body rest and relax from its heavy weight for a little while, as he did menial tasks in the tower, but Parvis always seemed to crash the best of plans. Will yanked the latches together and pressed hard on the metal plates to be sure they wouldn't come loose from his body, and waved at Parvis. “Let's go.”

They took to the sky, Will with his jetpack and Parvis using his blood magic, and made their way to Castle Parv.

The castle was south of Solutions Tower, on a large island. Parvis and Will had found it abandoned with chests of loot inside, and Parvis quickly claimed it as his own. Will had no objections except to the appearance, solid stone bricks with plain wood, which only looked good for small projects. An entire castle made that way was an insult to his architectural skills.

He'd tried to spruce the place up, which was where the sunflowers came from.

Will landed carefully at the edge of the fountain in the courtyard, deactivating his jetpack, and turned to look over the flowers he'd planted the other day. They stood upright and tall, leaves bright under the daylight, and he stepped off the fountain to hover around the nearest one. It had a good color and a strong stalk. Maybe, after they wilted, he could package the seeds and market them. Sunflower seeds were a popular snack, from what he understood, although he couldn't see the appeal considering their lack of substance.

“Oh, right.” Parvis sidled up next to Will, looking the flower up and down, “I keep forgetting that you planted these, I spend so much time inside the castle.” He reached out and grabbed one of the leaves, tugging it harshly.

“Don't--” Will started, and stopped, hissing. His hand flew to the back of his neck, where his ampullae tingled and pulsed. Thunder sounded in the distance, rumbling. Will scratched at the ampullae as much as he could without hurting them, trying to rid himself of the sensation. He had no time to discern whether the storm was natural or caused by something else, as Parvis started tugging harder on the leaf he'd grabbed.

Parvis tore it from the stem. “Rather useless,” he said, holding it up to look at the sunlight filtering through it. “Something for witchery, perhaps.”

“Parvis!” Will snatched the leaf out of his hands, but Parvis didn't let go, and it tore in two. Will stared at the broken plant piece before tossing it aside. “I planted these very carefully,” he said, worming his way between Parvis and the sunflower, careful not to let the wings of his jetpack cut the green flesh. “There isn't a point if you're just going to take them apart bit by bit.”

Tossing the remainders of the leaf he still held, Parvis shrugged. “I didn't _ask_ you to plant them, that was all your idea. They're just flowers, Will, they're gonna wilt and die eventually.”

Will narrowed his eyes, not moving from in front of the sunflower.

Parvis snorted, turning on his heel. “Come on, then, we've got work to do. I'll leave your precious sunflowers alone.”

Will hesitated, but the thunder rolled again, clouds gathering quickly in the sky. Chancing a glance up, he saw no sign of a certain demi-god, and chalked the weather up to bad timing. Will straightened his jacket and, with one last look at the assaulted flower, followed Parvis inside his castle.

 

* * *

 

 

Will saw Kirin again a week later.

He didn't always bring storms with him, but when he did, Will could feel him coming a few miles off, the clouds preceding his appearance, static crackling as the beginnings of lightning charged in the air. It set off Will's sensitive ampullae; the nodes scattered over his skin, concentrated over his back, were triggered by sensation, electricity being the most troublesome.

It made Kirin more annoying than he should have been.

Will felt the first of the tingling late one afternoon, tinkering with his disassembler. Parvis had managed to grab it off him and swung it around a little too carelessly. His blood-stained hands had covered the staff, and there was a chip in the corner of the casing. The disassembler was strong, but Parvis had collected a lot of power from his blood magic, and while the core of the weapon was nigh indestructible, the casing could only take so much of a beating.

When pulses started to run down his neck, a vague pricking that slowly grew over the nodes in Will's back, he went stiff, and got up to investigate at the window.

Sure enough, a storm was brewing, but it was the flash of blue caught Will's eye. He frowned and moved to go back to his work, picking up his weapon again, but as the back of his palms brushed over the metal, Will shivered. His ampullae lit up like a light show, pale green running up and over his skin, no doubt flushing his cheeks with bright color. Will bit his lip and picked up the dye he'd been using to touch up the surface of his disassembler.

But the lightning started, flashing bright in the darkness created by the clouds, and every roll of thunder made Will go stiff, muscles tense as hot sparks ran down his spine. Damn his biology, that prevented him from working in a measly little storm. Will glanced to the window again, but saw no flash of blue. He'd vanished from sight, then, but the presence of the storm meant Kirin was still close.

With a sigh, Will left his work on the table he'd been seated at, and climbed the stairs up to the top of Solutions Tower. It was a dry storm, without rain, and that at least was a small mercy.

Kirin was there, of course, twirling among the clouds, letting the winds rush over him as he spun in the air with no purpose other than to be distracting.

Fucking demi-gods.

“Kirin!” he called, cupping his hands around his mouth to better be heard over the thunder. “Kirin, what are you _doing_?”

Kirin stopped in his ridiculous twirling, and if he weren't so far away, Will thought he might have been able to see a grin. As it was, Kirin was only a blue image in the sky, hovering in place. But at least Will knew that Kirin could hear him.

“Unless you'd care to come in for a sales pitch,” he said, waving his arm down to gesture toward the stairs that he'd climbed to get up on the roof, “then I suggest you go about your business and get rid of these thunderstorms!”

Kirin flew a little closer, closing the gap between them, and Will could see he _was_ smiling, the bastard, floating as though sitting in an imaginary chair. Will fought to keep himself presentable, standing tall with his shoulders relaxed.

“Why, Strife,” Kirin said, “I thought you liked thunderstorms.”

His ampullae tingled with every roll of thunder, and Will resisted the urge to slap his hand over the back of his neck. He hadn't experienced so much sensation at once in a long time; storms in this area were rare, although Kirin brought them in with increasing frequency.

“You're going to hit my equipment with a lightning bolt,” Will said, flexing his fingers to get rid of the tingle running over his skin. “Like I said, buy or scram.” It was rather crude, but at this point, they both knew Kirin wouldn't be buying anything. Will wouldn't hesitate to extend the offer for a sale, but he could make his point, too.

Kirin straightened his legs, dropping the imaginary seat. “Is there a reason you don't like storms, Will? Most people think they're soothing, and look!” Kirin put his arms up, grinning. “No rain! That's the worst part for a lot of people. But you, you can enjoy this dry storm to your heart's content.”

Will caught himself mid sigh, and forced himself to breathe out the rest of the way through his nose. “The cloud coverage brings monsters,” he said, “and as stated, lightning could hit my tower. It's not a hard target.” Will wave a hand to encompass his entire roof, the building set on a hill and taller than any of the short trees on the land below. He'd built Solutions Tower in a sparse forest to increase visibility from the sky and accessibility from the ground, without resorting to settling somewhere barren like a desert, but it was a dangerous position to have a building full of metal during storms.

He had a lightning rod, but that was besides the point.

Kirin twisted again, pretending to lie on his back. “You're awfully composed for someone who claims to be so worried about his precious tower.”

“I keep composure even in the worst situations.” Will narrowed his eyes. “Are you going to leave or not? Because I can go back inside and get actual work done, if conversing with you proves to be useless.”

“Strife,” Kirin chided, clucking his tongue. “Haven't you ever talked to someone for the _pleasure_ of it?” His lips curled around the word 'pleasure' like it was supposed to mean something to Will, and Will could neither confirm nor deny that his freckles lit up a bit more at the implication.

“Get off my land,” Will commanded, pointing a finger ahead of him. “And take your damn storm with you, so I can work without all this racket.”

Kirin raised a brow, and a lightning bolt struck, just a few miles off and incredibly bright. It was followed immediately with thunder, so loud Will thought he could go deaf from it, but was lost focus on the rest of himself at the pulse of energy that worked its way down his ampullae.

It was almost like being lit on fire inside out, how the pressure changes and electricity struggled to overwhelm him, the nodes on his skin glowing brighter, his body responding to its environment. Will bit his lip and suppressed the whine that bubbled up, but he couldn't stop the full body shiver. His blood pumped hot, and he flexed his hands, almost fisting them in the fabric of his pants before he forced his fingers to straighten out.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself,” Kirin said, grinning.

Will scowled, gathering every bit of focus he had to turn around and take the stairs back inside his tower, slamming the door to the roof behind him. He could have sworn he heard laughter, but another wave of thunder rolled, and Will had to lean on the wall, gasping as the electric shivers coursed through him.

 

* * *

 

The wonderful news about Will Strife, was that he didn't resist for very long, if one persisted.

Or perhaps Kirin was an exception to Will's many rules, but he wouldn't think so highly of himself just yet.

He continued to send thunder and lightning over Will's land whenever he had the time for it, occasionally bringing rain, but the water obstructed his view of Will storming onto the roof to yell at him for being a pest. Even if it didn't, Kirin still had reservations about water. He'd stepped down from using the storms so much in his magic, so that electricity didn’t pulse in his very being and react poorly to any water contact. He’d focused just enough on arcane magic that the electricity didn't overtake his being, but he still preferred dry storms over wet.

He couldn't say how many days had passed, but enough that Will's attempts to bring Kirin down from the sky became less and less frequent, until finally, there was a day where Kirin spent an entire afternoon cooking up a storm, and Will refused to show his face.

Kirin brought in heavy clouds, cracking thunder, and lightning bright enough to make a lesser being shield their eyes against it. After a while he even summoned the rain, beating hard against the windows in an attack that Will wouldn't be able to miss. But there was no sign of Will coming on the roof, and when Kirin peeked in the windows, he couldn't see anything, not even a hint of his pretty, glowing skin.

Kirin debated leaving. On the one hand, he still hadn't gotten the information he wanted about Parvis. Will was a reliable source, if a bit inflated about how much he contributed to Parv's cause. And Kirin hadn't seen Parvis at the castle despite being able to feel the dangerous blood magic; he was probably holed up inside.

On the other hand, being ignored was not a feeling that Kirin cared for.

He went with the more appealing of the choices, cutting off the rain before he descended, and stopped with his feet just barely touching the ground when he felt a shift under his robes. Something disturbed the loose skirt that lay over his pants, and when Kirin tugged it out of the way, craning his head over his shoulder, he saw a long, thin appendage peeking out, blue as the electric magic burning in him, with a bit of white, hairy tuft at its end.

His tail.

Kirin bit his lip, tucking the skirt as best he could over the extra limb. He hadn't seen his tail in quite some time. The glowing ends of skin, near his antlers and at the ends of his fingers, were the first sign of his body being overwhelmed by his magic. But the tail, the tail was one of the last things to show. It meant his human body was struggling to contain his less mortal form.

Looking ahead of him, where Kirin had stopped in front of Will's door, he shook his head. He wouldn't let a little setback stop him. He'd already decided to pay a visit.

After knocking, Kirin made sure his sleeves were pulled down all the way, with no chance of the glowing blue streaks in his skin showing. He would be as human as possible for Will. As far as he knew, a human form was comforting to other humans, and he could only assume Will was the same. He acted human enough, especially with this big tower that screamed of projected masculinity.

It took a long moment before the door opened, and Kirin plastered on a smile when Will answered it, only for it to drop when he saw the state Will was in.

The rings under his eyes had gotten worse, and his hands clutched tight to the doorway. Upon laying eyes on Kirin, Will stood straighter, forcing his gaze to cut straight through him, but he could only look so intimidating, more than a foot shorter even with his fancy heeled boots.

“Kirin,” he said.

“Strife.” Kirin clasped his hands in front of him. “You don't look well.”

Will's hand moved, as though to rub over his face, but he stopped the motion and dropped his arm, his eyes never leaving Kirin's. They swirled with challenge despite his tired body. “I hope you didn't come here solely to criticize my appearance,” Will said, “although I appreciate you stopping the rain. It would help if you cut the storm altogether.”

Kirin gave a little smirk. “Where were you? I thought you would have come clambering out to stop the racket, but I didn't even see you in the windows of your _impressive_ tower.”

“Don't be condescending,” Will snapped, and sighed, shaking his head. “I was hiding in the basement, god damn it. Your storms are a terrible nuisance and it's the only place I can get any work done while you're around.”

The language and the way Will's shoulders slumped told Kirin much more about him than his words, and Kirin let his eyes roam over the entirety of Will's body. Small and thin, perhaps thinner than when he'd last seen him. The freckles, spread over his cheeks and collarbone, and the skin of his arms where his sleeves had been rolled up to the elbows, still glowed bright green. He couldn't ignore the tired eyes and the tone of his voice, though.

“Invite me in for tea,” Kirin demanded.

“I-- what?” Will managed to look offended enough that Kirin laughed.

“Invite me for tea,” Kirin repeated. “It's rude to enter a home without an invitation. Or has the custom changed since I last heard it?”

Will took a long moment to stare at him, before sighing again and stepping back from the door. “Fine, fine, come on in, I'll put the water on.”

Kirin matched and then easily overran Will's pace, taking the path to the kitchen and lifting the water pot from a shelf. Will sputtered behind him, but Kirin ignored it as he filled the pot with water and set it over the furnace. Once the fire had been started and the water began to warm under the heat, Kirin stood up and faced Will with a gentle smile. “I'll make it,” he said. “Sit down for a minute.”

Will gaped at him, as though he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, and when he only stood there, Kirin let out a little puff of breath and grabbed the nearest chair. It was a stool, which wasn’t ideal, and it was propped near a pile of machines and tubes. Kirin tsked as he grabbed it, setting it near the furnace, and took hold of Will’s shoulders to move him down on it.

Will jerked from his grasp and backed up, knocking into the stool. “Don’t touch me!” he hissed, hands wrapping around his chest to clasp at his shoulders. Kirin’s eyes, all three of them, went wide, and he backed up with his hands held high. Will breathed hard through clenched teeth, fingers shaking where they clung just over the curve of his shoulders, rubbing once and stopping suddenly. Will hissed again.

A moment passed, and Kirin stared, waiting.

Will dropped his hands, letting them fall to his knees, and spent a second taking in large gulps of air, before he stood. He coughed into his elbow and brushed imaginary dust off his pants. “Excuse me,” he said, straightening his shirt where his tight grip had wrinkled it. “I don’t care for being touched without warning.”

Kirin blinked, and nodded. “Duly noted, but I’d still like you to sit down.” Kirin kicked the stool over, keeping his hands away, and waited for Will to sit, which he did only after sending a potent glare Kirin’s way. Kirin took it in stride, turning when he heard the water start to boil. He could feel Will’s eyes on his back, boring a hole into it, but he grabbed two cups from the shelf without looking at him. “Sugar? Milk?” he asked.

“In the chest,” Will said, and Kirin waited a beat. “Oh, none for me.” Kirin chanced a look behind him then, and saw Will’s face glowing a few shades brighter than before.

Kirin served him his plain tea, sipping at his own without truly tasting it. He was too focused on Will, how his shoulders hunched, and his fingers clenched around the tea cup, and the awkward spread of his legs as they rested on the bottom rung of the wooden stool.

“How is work with Parvis?” He’d meant it as a casual question, a way to suss out Parvis’ progress in his blood magic. The more defensive Will was about Parv’s work, the worse it was going, and if that were the case, Kirin needn’t worry.

He hadn’t expected a sharp intake of breath, and glanced up from watching the steam rise from his cup, to see Will with his eyes cast down at the floor. “Will?”

Snapping his head back up, Will straightened in his seat. “We’re fine,” he said, and cleared his throat. “Parvis is doing fine.”

“I see.” Kirin raised a brow, but Will wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Hm.”

Will frowned at that, looking at Kirin without looking at him, focusing somewhere near his neck. “Are you implying something?”

“I never said anything.” Kirin sipped at his tea, and he could feel his tail flicking between his legs, under his robes. He pursed his lips slightly, suddenly glad Will wasn’t looking at him while he drank his own tea, and reached back to adjust his robes, to tuck them tighter to his waist and keep the annoying extra appendage in place.

“What’s that?” Will said, shifting so far that Kirin thought he might fall off the stool.

Kirin went stiff, breathing slowly through his nose, and released his robes. “Nothing.” He took a drink of tea to end the thought, but Will was a man of business, and so knew when not to let an argument go unchecked.

“There’s something behind you,” Will said, getting up slowly. He set the tea cup atop the stool, moving to look around Kirin. His eyes were already bigger than before, no longer half shut with the desperate need for sleep, and his steps were quick as he hurried to figure out what Kirin was hiding.

“That’s not important--” Kirin started, but then Will lifted the long, hanging sleeve of his robes, tugging it upward as Kirin shifted back and away, and Will gasped.

The tail peeked out from under Kirin’s hem, the tip curled around his ankle, and when Will moved Kirin’s sleeves to get a look, it freed itself, waving like a cat’s tail in Kirin’s irritation. “That isn’t--” Will swallowed, and looked at Kirin. “You don’t . . . have a tail, do you?”

Kirin put his own cup on the counter, tugging his sleeve back in place. The tail hitched up, raising the hem of his robes, and Kirin batted at it with his heel, kicking a couple times until it settled, the long white fur that covered the end resting on the floor as it relaxed. “Yes,” he said, and leveled his gaze with Will. “Is that an issue?”

“No, no,” Will said, bringing a hand up to wave it. “I’ll admit to being a bit fascinated, though.” He leaned a little to look at the tail again, and Kirin tucked it behind his back. Will pursed his lips. “How does one acquire a tail? I don’t believe the science behind genetics has gone quite that far yet.”

“It’s magic, dear Strife,” Kirin said, “and I can imagine you don’t want to know the details behind it.” Kirin didn’t quite understand it himself, but Will didn’t need to know that. Mentioning magic would be enough to keep him well away.

Will made a face, the skin pinched tight. “Oh, I see.”

“Finish your tea,” Kirin said, picking up Will’s cup and handing it to him. Will took it without fuss, but frowned at the still steaming liquid. His eyes continued to drift to Kirin’s robes, until Kirin kicked the stool at him again, and Will sat. Kirin leaned on the counter of what served as Will’s kitchen to finish his own cup, keeping his eyes on Will and his tail firmly out of sight.

 

* * *

 

Lying visited again while Kirin was making redstone soup. He was running low on redstone and figuring out the best way to parcel what he had left before going out for more, when Kirin felt the faint tingling in his neck and the thrumming in the air that meant another heavy magic user was nearby. And judging by the way the shadows on the wall suddenly flickered, it could only be Lying.

Kirin set down his ingredients on the work table and moved downstairs to greet them. If he didn't, Lying would kick up an awful fuss and, as it was, would probably fuss anyway about the state of Kirin's home.

“So you _are_ here,” Lying said, frowning up at him from where they stood in the middle of the basement. Their hands combed through their ponytail and straightened their hat, last minute steps to brush up their appearance, even though Kirin didn't care in the least. “I was beginning to think you'd moved.” Lying made a hand motion, gesturing Kirin down to their level.

“I would never leave without telling you,” Kirin said, thick in sarcasm, as he bent down and let Lying scramble up and onto his shoulders. When he stood, Lying almost hit the ceiling, but Kirin had made his house tall for more than one reason. Lying grabbed his antlers as Kirin walked them back upstairs.

Lying huffed noisily at Kirin's comment, kicking him in the ribs.

“You haven't been studiously violating every magical rule there is,” Lying said, leaning forward to look Kirin in the face. “And I thought perhaps you'd been stuck in that precious Twilight Forest of yours. It wouldn't be the first time.”

Kirin knelt and unceremoniously dumped Lying on the floor, walking back to his work table to mix the redstone soup. Lying had interrupted the process, and he needed to start again. Letting the tongue of dog sit for too long dried it up, and he'd already been distracted by his own thoughts when he'd started. Kirin tossed the tongue in the nearest chest of useless items and grabbed a fresh one, starting the soup again.

“I've been busy,” he said simply, grinding the mandrake root and belladonna. “Excuse me for not being at your beck and call.”

Lying tugged at their robes, frowning as they checked their red heels for any signs of breaking. “How dare you dump me on the floor,” they said, and looked up with a raised brow. “What in the world could you have been _busy_ with, that _isn't_ messing about with magic inside your own house? The last time I checked, you were an absolute recluse who let Su gather all of your supplies.”

Kirin didn't look up from pouring the redstone dust into the bottle he'd prepared. “Su hasn't been around. I have to do something with my time, even if it's menial resource gathering.”

Lying had come close, peering at his work with a small scoff. “As if you couldn't automate it. Really, Kirin, do you take me for a fool? I know when you're avoiding a subject. I also know that you've been spending quite a lot of time with that little green alien boy.”

Tensing, Kirin looked up. “How did-- nevermind, you always find some way.”

Lying grinned. “Indeed, I do.” Shaking their hair, the strands slapping wet against their clothes, they said, “I can't really see what you like in him, but far be it from me to judge your romantic pursuits. Of course, I'll judge anyway, but.” Lying shrugged.

“It isn't a pursuit,” Kirin said, putting the tongue of dog into his mixture. “Parvis is rather absent. I think he lives in that castle of his all the time, and I don't want to enter without invitation if it's not a pressing matter. I'm simply speaking to Will to try and find out what Parvis has been up to, to see if the blood magic is getting especially dangerous.”

Lying hummed, clasping their hands behind their back. “And how many times have you been back to the castle since you saw your precious alien boy planting sunflowers?”

Kirin frowned, putting both hands on the edge of the work table and gripping. “Several times,” he said. “And Parvis is never there, or at least not where I can easily see him. Why bother with someone who doesn't want to be disturbed when Will is available?” And far more fun to talk to, but that was besides the point.

Sitting on the table, next to Kirin's hand, Lying grabbed it, plucking his fingers away until his hand was free. Kirin could have pulled away, if he wanted to. Lying pressed his grip around Kirin's index finger, their sharp nails digging it above his cuticle. Blue magic seeped out of the joint where Kirin's nail met skin, and Lying traced around it. “You're getting worse,” they said, matter-of-factly.

Kirin tugged his hand back. “I'm aware. My tail made its first appearance in a while.”

Lying's eyes narrowed. “The _tail_? Well, then, you're in more trouble than I thought.”

Kirin picked up the rest of his ingredients, pouring them in the jar. Lying watched in quiet boredom while Kirin shelved the redstone soup to let it settle, the redstone powder bleeding over the bottom of the glass and sizzling as it mixed with the belladonna.

“I'm fine,” Kirin said, rubbing a thumb over the finger Lying had investigated. “I have a while until it gives out, and I'm too busy trying to find out whether Parvis has gone too deep with his blood magic, among other things, to bother myself with my body.”

Snorting, Lying jumped down from the work table. “Too busy, as though you don't rule the Twilight Forest and do as you please on your own schedule.” They looked up, meeting his gaze. “Too busy,” they repeated, “or too enamored with your precious alien boy to even care about blood magic run amok anymore?”

“What does it matter to _you_?” Kirin hissed, stalking out of the room, to his thaumaturgy area. Lying followed with soft, fast clicks of their heels against the wood.

“It doesn't,” they said. “But your magic seeping through your physical shell does. Who knows what could happen to my well and my precious living space if you suddenly unleash--”

“Enough,” Kirin said, coming to a halt. He faced Lying head on, glaring. “I have it under control. Why don't you practice some of that infinite amount of not giving a shit that you're so fond of? I can handle myself, I'm a grown man.”

“A grown something, all right,” Lying huffed. “If you're that sensitive about it, I can leave. No use talking to someone as besotted as you.”

“Get out,” Kirin said, without any real heat. Lying had snapped his patience, and now he only wanted to sit down quietly and wait for his redstone soup to finish setting. He couldn't afford the sitting down part, but he could dream.

Lying was gone in an instant, the shadows on the walls flickering as they made their way out, and they left a distinct mugginess in their absence. Kirin wrinkling his nose at it, going to his infusion altar and picking up the ingredients he'd last used, putting them in the chests against the wall. He puttered around his home, waiting for the soup, and when he thought it might be done, he pulled it down from the shelf where he'd placed it, turning the jar over in his hands.

As he did, something fluttered to the floor. Kirin frowned, holding the jar of soup aside to peer down at it. White, thin, but also wet and heavy looking. Pursing his lips, Kirin bent down to take a closer look, and the sleeve of his robe shifted down.

The flash of red caught his eye, and Kirin turned his arm over. On the underside, near the crook of his elbow, was an open, gaping wound. Blue magic filled the edges and bled into it, covering the exposed flesh and stopping any bleeding that might have occurred, and when Kirin looked at the material that had fallen on the floor, he saw a piece of his own skin, laying limp.

He'd lost a part of his body without definable cause. Kirin held his arm higher, watching the magic that filled him to the brim, as it covered the wound and seeped out of it, glowing bright and threatening to spill. He clamped his other hand over it, dropping the soup. The jar shattered, and he cursed.

The vessel holding his magic together was falling apart at the seams.

 

* * *

 

Parvis had been holed up in his castle for weeks, poking his head out when he heard the telltale sounds of Will's jetpack, but otherwise hiding himself from the world. He had all the energy he needed with blood, and food from his meager farm, and his bed was tucked into a corner deep in the castle. Parvis had reasoned that he didn't really need to leave.

Will almost wished he could have the same luxury, locked in the Solutions Tower all day to work without a care for weeks on end. He would get more projects done. But, in addition to scouting out the area for potential businesses, and paying his friendly witch neighbors visits to offer them his superior equipment, ultimately staying for tea with Nilesy, Will had to leave his tower to help Parvis.

The island that Castle Parv sat on was ugly, bland and grassy with some forest. Much like the castle itself, it was impressive in size and structure, but visually unappealing. Will shuddered every time he saw it, wishing nothing more than to terraform the place, and at the very least give it some more attractive and exotic flora.

But every time he was there, Parvis ushered him inside and started talking about his magic. That Will had found the time to plant sunflowers was a miracle, and they brightened the courtyard immensely. Will couldn't take care of them the way he wanted to, taken by the wrist by Parvis and dragged inside the moment he stepped on land, but their presence was a definite improvement.

Will didn't think about the magical god who had caught him planting the flowers.

Lately Parvis had grown obsessed with increasing his magical power, somehow. Will touched down in the courtyard of the castle and made his way inside before Parvis could yank him in, taking the jetpack off and setting it by the door.

“Will!” Arms enveloped him as soon as he dropped the jetpack, and Will steeled himself against Parvis' grip. His arms were bloodied up to the elbow, and though it didn't stain, as evidenced by the lack of blood on any of Will's clothes, the blood left him with a sickly feeling in his stomach every time he came in contact with it. Will squirmed out of the hug.

“Parvis!” he yelled, wiping down his impeccable vest. No marks, yet again, but he could feel the touch of the blood through his clothes every time. “I told you not to jump me like that.”

“Oh, is Strifeykins in a bad mood today?” Parvis leaned his weight on one leg, hips cocked, and he looked Will up and down. “Look at you, all glowy. Did something happen? Or are you getting into one of your week long _moods_?” He grinned, and Will half-expected Parvis' teeth to be stained, too. In quite the contrast to his arms, they were pearly white, and gleamed in the light of the torches spread around the interior of the castle.

Will took a deep breath, wishing not for the first time that he could control his bioluminescence. But his blood glowed with the microscopic symbiotes that lived in it, taking from Will and providing to him in equal measure so they both could survive. He couldn't tame the green glow under his skin if he tried. Still, Will wiped at his cheek, scrubbing the bright freckles.

“I'm not in a mood,” he said. “And you and I both know those are near unavoidable, so don't make it sound like I'm taking a vacation.”

“Whatever.” Parvis waved a hand dismissively. “We have work to do, Will, and I've not seen you in far too long. Your clock starts now.”

“You don't pay me,” Will protested, but Parvis was already turned around, walking farther into the dank rooms of his castle. Will sighed, and followed, wide heels clicking softly on the stone. If Parvis would let him, Will would give the place more lights, something to make it look like a home. Every time he suggested it, Parvis laughed and said he liked the dark atmosphere. It suited his rituals, he claimed.

At least he wasn't wrong on that one.

They went to the main ritual room, where the blood altar sat on its high pedestal. Parvis climbed the steps with ease, hands on either side of the altar’s chiseled brick as he leaned over the base of it. Will hesitated at the bottom, shoes scuffing the floor when he stopped, and looked up. Parvis loomed over the altar, peering into its depths, and the magic of the blood churning within it lit up his face. The altar always gave off a small amount of light, just enough to cast Parvis' face in heavy shadow every time he looked into it.

Will shivered, and made his way up. “What are we doing today?”

Parvis didn't answer at first, caught up in the swirls of the blood, the magic aura leaking from it. Will hated magic in all its forms, but it didn't mean he couldn't feel its effects when he got close. The blood altar gave a distinctive vibe, something churning, as though the blood in its center were a thick soup that had to be constantly tended. The first time Will had felt it, he nearly lost his lunch, and only kept himself together for virtue of looking professional in front of Parvis.

He'd helped craft the blood altar and its rituals, after all. Will couldn't be upset by the very magic he'd had a hand in, even if he had been forced into it.

Parvis stood, so fast that Will almost jumped, and he grinned again, wider than before. “We've got research to do, Will! Lots of things to look up, magic to learn about. I want to know all about the different magics people use around here.”

Will made himself laugh. “Getting tired of blood magic already? I can't say I'm surprised.” He leaned back a bit and crossed his arms. “But other magic isn't going to be any more stable or efficient. If you really want efficiency, you should--”

Parvis cut him off with a wave of his hand, inches from Will's face. “No, no! Why would I give up blood magic? Hell no, I want to see what I can do about combining my blood rituals with other things.” The grin returned, full of teeth. “If I can mix blood magic with something else, I'll _really_ be in business. All that power, Strife, think of it!”

Stepping back, Will frowned. “I don't think combining magics is a good idea.”

“No, it's great!” Parvis shoved past him, running down the pedestal and landing with a hard jump at the bottom. “I went hunting, Will, come see!”

Sighing, Will walked down the steps, careful not to trip, and watched as Parvis climbed the stairs to the sorting level, rooting through their chests. “I found a dungeon,” he said, his voice muffled as he dug through his resources, “and there was a library. It had all these books, and normally I don't really care for reading, but.” Parvis emerged, some of said books now in his arms. “These ones talk about magic! At least, I think they do. They all had magic written somewhere in the title.”

“Parvis,” Will scolded, taking the stairs to meet him. “You can't just take random books and assume they'll be helpful. And reading is so old fashioned, you should really only keep a few manuals around for machinery. You don't need a library of dusty old books about magic that doesn't exist anymore.”

Standing with the books still in his arms, Parvis shook his head and clicked his tongue. “That's where you're wrong, Strifeykins. Look at this.” He juggled the books, until he had a particular one in his hands, lifting it for Will to see.

Squinting, Will read the title. _Experiences in_ _Thaumaturgy_ _: Usage and Mishaps._

“So you have a book on thaumaturgy,” he said, leaning back and crossing his arms. “A lot of people around us are already practicing it, and need I remind you that it's probably the _most_ unstable of all the magics you could try.”

“But it's compatible with blood magic, Will!” Parvis turned to dump the other books back in the chest, and held the thaumaturgy book, flipping it open and browsing the pages. “It mentions it,” he said, volume picking up as he spoke. “And there's a chapter on it! It says _Uses for Thaum and Blood_ and I'm pretty sure it talks about adding thaum magic to the blood altar. But look! Right here!” Parvis crowed and pointed to the center of one of the pages.

With a sigh, Will maneuvered himself around to look at the page with Parvis, eyes narrowed. “Taint?” he said, and that familiar, unpleasant coil settled in his gut, rising in his throat like bile. “Parvis, taint is what infected that scientist and his witch apprentice. You can't seriously . . .” Will drifted off, when he saw the bright look on Parvis' face.

“I am!” Parvis confirmed. “This taint, whatever it is, is mentioned so many times in this book. I haven't taken a proper read, but.” He snapped the book shut, tucking it under his arm. “I went looking and found a taint patch not too far from here. I want to go look at it and maybe bring some back with me, if I can. I made a lot of jars, just in case.”

Will gaped, and shook his head. “Go yourself, then, if it's not that far. I'm not helping you gather some poisonous, magical substance for your filthy rituals.”

“But Will,” Parvis whined, pouting and, honest to God, stamping his foot. Will did his best not to roll his eyes as Parvis said, “The taint is dangerous! What if I get hurt? I won't have anyone to help me and I'll have to make my own way back to the castle. I won't die, obviously.” As he said it, Parvis' hand came up to curl around the bloodstone hanging from his neck. Will took an unsteady step back, before catching himself and stopping mid step. The bloodstone was nothing to be afraid of, strung up in a leather cord around Parvis' neck. The fact that it glowed and pulsed in the same rhythm as the blood altar was to be expected, and wasn't unsettling at all.

Will forced himself to look at Parvis' face again, away from the stone.

“Do you want me to be in pain?” Parvis said, sticking his bottom lip out in a mock of a real pout. “Do you _want_ to see me struggle to get pieces of taint by myself?”

“Parvis,” Will tried to say.

“You do!” Parvis dropped the stone from his hand, throwing both arms in the air. “Little Will's too important to help me, spends all his time cooped up in his tower not talking to anybody! Meanwhile I'm here doing good work with my magic and you can't even be proud of me because of your _stupid_ hang ups. Will, you don't _care_ about me.” Parvis' brow furrowed, and he looked at Will with wide, innocent eyes. “You never do anything I ask you to.”

“Ugh.” The moan came out long and loud, echoing on the castle’s walls. “ _Fine_ ,” Will said, and put a hand over his face to rub it, smothering his mouth and the words that wanted to pour out, to comfort Parvis and assure him that Will only did what was necessary. It was a mantra he'd repeated too many times to count, and Will was too tired for it. Parvis wanted him to help with the taint. Will didn't have much choice except to say yes, to get him to shut up about it.


	2. Chapter 2

Parvis' definition of _far_ was, as always, a little bit off.

But Will didn't mind; the farther the taint was from their location, the better. It was miles south of the castle, in a huge swamp dripping with plant life and mobs alike. Will fought off several creepers and a zombie as soon as they touched down, thankful for his atomic disassembler and its capabilities as both a mining tool and a weapon.

Parvis stumbled as he touched down, his mode of flight shakier than Will's, and he beamed when he saw the purple slick covering the edges of the swamp. He knelt down immediately to touch some of the infected grass, humming as he trailed his fingers through it. “Lovely.”

“Don't touch that!” Will snapped, already pulling leather gloves from his inventory and tucking them over his hands. “Here.” He tossed a pair to Parvis, who sputtered when they hit his face. He put them on all the same, grumbling and stretching his fingers in the material.

“It's tight,” he complained.

“It will help protect you from taint,” Will shot back. “Don't be ungrateful.”

Parvis moaned, exaggeratedly long and loud, but nodded, turning toward the vast, purple stained landscape. “Where do we start?”

“Wherever you think is best. You _are_ the expert.” Will adjusted his jetpack and looked expectantly at Parvis, who scanned the area with a wide, sweeping gaze.

“There,” he decided, pointing vaguely to the west. “That looks dangerous, doesn't it? Let's go!”

Will grit his teeth, knowing Parvis wouldn't budge now that he'd made up his mind, and started after him, as Parvis ran through the vines and branches of the swamp trees.

Naturally, Parvis wasn't prepared. When they found a large patch of taint with tentacles sprouting from the ground, waving back and forth each time Parvis tried to touch them, Will said, “Did you bring containers to put samples in?”

Parvis stopped in his wild grabbing for the tentacle, and paused. “No.”

Rolling his eyes, Will reached into his supply bag, strapped under the torso plating on the jetpack, and took out a few jars. “Here,” he said, and handed one to Parvis. “Take whatever it is you want and let's get out of here.”

Parvis grinned, delighted, and snatched the jar. The tentacle still waved around, and Parvis bent down to take it. But the tentacle, as long as Parvis' arm, curled around his wrist instead, and yanked. Will tensed, but Parvis laughed, digging his heels into the dirt and pulling hard against the strain.

A second later, Parvis toppled, and Will breathed hard, his disassembler touching the ground. He'd swung it to cut the tentacle, and now Parvis had his arm held out, watching the tentacle wriggle weakly on his wrist before it fell, limp to the ground.

Will scrapped the purple goo off his weapon, shivering at the sight of the tentacle's base, still squirming where it punctured the purple grass. He kicked it with the heel of his shoe, and it stilled. He heard Parvis whisper, “It's soft,” and turned around.

In his constant refusal to use his own head, Parvis had removed a glove, bending over, and was poking at the dead body of the tentacle still on the ground.

“Parvis!” Will rushed over and shoved him away, sending Parvis toppling. “I told you not to touch it!”

“But it's so interesting!” Parvis looked at Will sideways from where he'd splayed out, bloodied arms a pleasant color contrast to the deep purple land. Will growled and grabbed the center of Parvis' shirt, yanking him up. “Will,” Parvis cooed.

“Don't 'Will' me, you're going to get yourself killed.”

Parvis stuck his tongue out, and flinched. Will released his shirt, stepping back, and Parvis flinched again, a hand going to his opposite arm. “Ow,” he whined, rubbing down the reddened skin. “It hurts.”

“What--” Will looked closer at his arm, catching the sight of purple particles floating above the skin, some of them resting in a fine powder.

Parvis flinched again, digging his nails in his arm. “Ouch!”

Will threw his hand back in his bag, grabbing one of the bottles of milk he'd stored in it that morning, before they left. Once he had it in hand, he took Parvis by the wrist, extending his arm, and uncorked the bottle with his thumb. Will dumped the milk where the particles had settled on Parvis' skin, washing them away with the most basic of antidotes.

“There. You're lucky I had this.” Will shook the bottle to get the last drops out of it, and released Parvis, stepping back to tuck the bottle back in his bag.

Parvis rubbed his arm, shaking it out. “Gross, you got milk all over me.”

Will's nostrils flared, and he walked around Parvis, stopping when he saw the tentacle again. It had deflated, ooze seeping out of the cut end onto the grass, the flesh weak without puss and water to hold it together. As he stared, the skin of the tentacle hissed, and steam rose from it, a chemical reaction as it lost all sense of life. The flesh started melting, thick chunks of flesh falling off the edges, sinewy strings breaking as they rolled away.

With one of his empty bottles, Will carefully plucked a piece of flesh from the growing piles, and dropped it in. He jammed the cork into the top and wiped his glove on the grass, shivering at the sight of the sticky residue. “Here,” he said, holding up the bottle.

“Hooray for Strifeykins!” Parvis cheered, walking over and snatching up the bottle. “We can take this back to Castle Parv, and-- hey!” Parvis lifted up the glass. “It's changing.”

Will, who had been closing up his bag, looked up to see the tentacle flesh in the bottle dissolving. Frowning, he looked at the tentacle on the ground, but it was no longer there. In its place was a gurgling, bubbling puddle of purple ooze, exactly like the ooze now sliding around the glass bottle as Parvis tilted it back and forth. “It melted,” Parvis said, his tone flat.

“It seems the taint products don't maintain their consistency when cut off from the source,” Will said. “That is both comforting and disconcerting.” A material that so easily changed to a sticky, contaminate substance couldn't be good, especially with the purple _still_ sticking to Will's glove. He'd probably have to throw away this pair.

“I can still use this, though.” Parvis smiled at the bottle, his finger tracing over the outside. “Come on, I bet there's better stuff even deeper into the taint.”

Parvis rushed off before Will could protest and, with a sigh, Will ran after him. He left his jetpack off, in case he needed to have a quick escape later, and ran until he'd caught up with Parvis, snatching his elbow to pull him away from dangerous looking pools of water and tentacles bigger than the one they'd killed. Parvis broke away and muttered excitedly under his breath about all the possibilities for his blood magic.

They tried to collect more samples, but each bit of flesh from the tainted creatures they killed-- be they tentacles, the spiders that hatched from the strange, cracked purple eggs, or common mobs with taint covering their skin-- dissolved in the bottles into a pile of goo. It made collecting samples an aggravating experience. On the other hand, Will couldn't imagine what Parvis would do if he had a live, tainted spider in his hands. Anything that could give him a form of blood was a bad idea.

Twice more, a taint swarm infected Parvis, and Will had to dump milk on him, only for Parvis to complain about the feeling rather than thanking Will for saving his impulsive ass.

A few hours after they came, Will suggested they leave, and in this case, 'suggested' meant 'demanded.' He was above begging, but he threatened to leave Parvis by himself as he flicked his jetpack on, and Parvis whined as they ascended to the sky, shoving the bottles of taint goo in Will's hands just before they took off.

Parvis chatted Will's ear off on the way back to the castle, talking about all the ways he could try and use the taint, even just the goo they had, to enhance his blood magic. Pouring it in his altar, trying to infect his blood stone with it, even putting it on himself and using his spells as he was tainted up. Will objected loudly to the last one, until Parvis rolled his eyes and assured Will, with a pat to his head as they flew, that he wouldn't hurt himself.

His smile as he spoke about his magic had Will rolling his eyes, but there was a layer of affection there, Will's heart thrumming pleasantly and his skin glowing with the color of his alien blood.

When they made it back to Castle Parv, Parvis insisted that Will stay for one ritual before he went back to Solutions Tower. “Come on,” Parvis begged, grabbing his wrist. “I have something I've been meaning to do for _forever_ and I want you around to help me.”

Will tried to tug his wrist free, but Parvis held tight, and Will sighed, nodding. “For one spell,” he said, “and then I have to go. I can't leave Solutions Tower for too long.”

“Brilliant!” Parvis leaned in, smacking a wet kiss on Will's cheek. Will blushed bright green, his hand flying up to cover the spot, but Parvis was already running to his altar, arranging spell items and holding his blood stone tight in one hand. It wasn't often that Parvis showed such affection, something different and yet similar to the way he always grabbed at Will physically, and Will stood dumbly, holding his cheek, as Parvis worked.

The sound of the blood altar churning, drawing in power, always made his stomach flip. Will snapped from his stupor when he heard it, and backed up a step from the altar. “What are you trying to do?” he asked, wiping the back of his palm over his face to get rid of Parvis' disgusting saliva.

“Summon lightning,” Parvis said. “I saw it in my blood magic books a while ago and thought I would give it a shot. Can you imagine, Will? Being able to strike the ground with a bolt of electricity whenever I wanted?”

Will swallowed. A certain someone had been having too much fun setting off lightning around Solutions Tower for him to have any pleasant thoughts, but he nodded anyway, watching Parvis carefully from the base of the altar.

Parvis looked up, staring at him, and waved a hand. “Come here.”

Will paled, the green of his skin dimming. “Parvis, I don't think--”

“The more blood we have,” Parvis said slowly, gripping the edges of the blood altar, “the better this will work. I want to get it on the first try. So, stop being a baby, and come up here.”

Frowning at him, Will put one foot at the base of the pedestal, hesitating, but Parvis only smiled and waved him up again, encouraging. Will's shoulders slumped and he continued up, taking the steps with careful placement of his feet on each one, wary of slipping in anything unsavory, until he stood with Parvis at the top of the tower.

Parvis clapped his hands together. “Okay! Let's get us started.” He reached into a pouch tied to his belt, a small pocket that Will had designed for him after Parvis kept trying to store things in the pockets of his blood armor and they fell out when he flew. Parvis dug in the bag until he'd found what he wanted, taking out the Sacrificial Knife.

He easily cut a wound in his uncovered arms, the new blood welling up midway between his wrist and elbow. Will had to squint to see the cut, as it blended in with the bloodstains across Parvis' skin.

Parvis hissed as he cut, but the pain faded quickly, his blood dripping into the surface of the altar. Bending over it, Parvis tilted his arm to put the cut directly over the opening, and watched it fall in. The blood altar pulsed and swirled, and a vague tickle hit the back of Will's neck. The change in pressure as the blood magic filtered out and through the air from the altar made him shiver and rub at his own arms.

When the cut slowed in its bleeding, Parvis drew back, and looked at Will. “Your turn,” he said, and handed the knife over.

Will took it gently, watching Parvis lick over his wound before pulling a bandage from his pockets. Parvis had long stopped caring about the scars, but, as he'd said, there was no point in bleeding on the floor once the altar was satisfied.

The trick about the Sacrificial Knife, was that it only took blood from the person who used it. Parvis couldn't do this _for_ Will, unless he had a Dagger of Sacrifice. Which he did, but Parvis insisted only on using it for the witches they spawned in the base of the castle. He'd told Will that he didn't have the heart to hurt him.

Conscious of the way the scars could show, Will unbuttoned his shirt, turning around. He lay the fabric over his arms, and held the knife at an awkward angle, pointing it at his upper back. “You're welcome,” he muttered, but Parvis said nothing, and Will braced himself for the pain.

The cut stung, like it always did, and Will didn't have the advantage of an altar that healed him. Parvis could put on his blood armor after they were done and watch all his little injuries fade as the altar took from its own blood supply to keep his body healthy. Will would have to heal the old fashioned way.

Cutting his back meant there wasn't an easy way to let the blood flow into the altar, and so Will pressed the knife itself against the cut. He could feel the paleness around the wound, how it drained, and the knife, connected to the altar, pulled his blood away, absorbed it and put that energy right back into Parvis.

The more blood it had, from more sources, the more powerful it was. Parvis always said that, every time Will tried to refuse helping him. Parvis would beg Will with big doe eyes and petulant whines until he gave in. Will would rather not be involved in potty mouth wizard magic, but if it shut Parvis up, he couldn't see the harm in the occasional cut. Who knew, maybe his alien, glowing green blood was part of why Parvis' magic steadily climbed the power wrung, working off blood that was distinctly not from this world.

When the pain in the cut flared and Will could feel the knife taking more than it should, he ripped it away from his skin and tossed it aside. Parvis yelled and bent to grab it. Will had already descended the pedestal, and searched the nearest chest for something he could use. He always forgot, he _always_ forgot the end result.

He found cloth. Will pressed it to his shoulder, teeth grit and hissing at the contact. When he pulled the cloth back to check the bleeding, he could see glowing green seeped into it, his blood burning bright even outside his body. Will put the cloth back in place, and slumped to the floor.

Parvis was already working, using the blood from both of them to start his spell. The first time Parvis had used Will's blood in addition to his own, his work had gone beautifully, and Will had wondered if it was the symbiotes in his blood, the microscopic beings that made it glow, their life sacrificed along with the blood when Parvis used it.

He'd taken a lot, this time. Will could feel the wetness of the cloth pressed to his wound, still bleeding, and glanced up at the altar to catch rays of green and red as they mixed over Parvis' hand and knife. Parvis was muttering something that Will couldn't hear, and Will didn't bother to try.

Will didn't realize he'd closed his eyes until he opened them again, and saw Parvis grinning down at him. “Are we a sleepyhead, Will?”

“Parvis,” Will said, and groaned as he shifted up. He'd leaned against the stone brick walls, the chill seeping into his already cold body. The cloth had fallen when his arm drooped, and it sat on the floor beside him, the glow of Will's blood gone from it. Now it was plain and black, the symbiotes long dead. Will reached around to feel tentatively at the cut, catching the filmy surface that had covered it. The healing process had started, at least.

“It didn't work,” Parvis said, stepping back as Will forced his legs under him, standing shakily.

“How unfortunate.” Will couldn't bite back the sarcasm as he rubbed a hand over his face. “Are we going to have to try again?”

“Yep!” Parvis put both hands on his hips, spinning around to look at the altar, and back at Will. “But not for a while. You look about to keel over.”

Will nodded blindly, not listening as he looked for his shirt, and saw it still at the base of the altar. At the top of the long, shallow steps. Will leaned against the wall again, thunking his head on the stones. The cut wasn't terrible, and certainly not the worst he'd had, but the aftershock, dealing with the blood loss, always made him want to sleep for several hours.

Standing in front of Will's line of sight, Parvis smiled, all teeth. “You're such a good helper, Will. Giving up all that blood.”

“I'm not your helper,” Will snapped, and closed his eyes. Sleep wasn't practical, but maybe he could get his bearings if he rested for a few minutes.

“Will.” Parvis grabbed his wrist, shaking it lightly until Will looked at him again. “Will, you are _too_ my helper. But you've been avoiding me so much lately.” Parvis tilted his head, batting his eyelashes. “I thought you hated me, spending so much time locked away in that tower of yours.”

Will backed up a step when Parvis sidled close to him, the grip on his wrist shifting to Will's elbow, and Parvis' other hand grabbing Will's free arm to match. “Naughty boy,” Parvis scolded, clicking his tongue. “I don't even get hugs anymore.”

“I am _not_ hugging you,” Will said, trying to yank away. But he'd taken his armor off and his body was weak from blood loss. It was all too easy for Parvis to drag him on and put his hands at the base of Will's back, like an anchor, the blood stained fingers pushing into his skin.

“One hug,” Parvis begged, bending down to nuzzle at Will's neck.

“No.” He struggled harder, and Parvis clamped down with his hands.

“One,” Parvis said, “and I'll leave you alone. I have work to do today and I know you're probably itching to get back to your precious eyesore of a tower. One hug.”

Will stopped his struggles, feeling Parvis' warm breath over his neck, and sighed. “Fine.”

“Will!” Parvis' arms locked around him, pulling Will even closer, and Will grunted as Parvis held tight to his body. Parvis' legs locked on either side of Will's feet, and he brought his face up to smack a loud kiss on Will's cheek. Will leaned away, but Parvis managed the kiss anyway. He let go of Will and darted back as soon as he'd done it.

“Parvis!” Will reached up and rubbed at his cheek. It felt like sludge, the way Parvis' saliva stuck to him, tainted with the ritual blood like every part of Parvis was, even if it wasn't always visible. Will scrubbed harder at his cheek, glaring. “I didn't agree to that.”

“You didn't say _not_ to kiss you,” Parvis sang, spinning around again the climb the pedestal of the altar. “You ought to be clearer with your instructions next time.”

Will dropped his hand, but the phantom stickiness of Parvis' kiss stayed, and he tried not to think about it as he climbed the steps of the altar and gathered up his shirt.

 

* * *

 

The extent to which Will used his own body as part of his testing methods was impressive, even if he were somehow more resilient than a human, which Kirin knew he wasn't.

He'd caught Will in the middle of testing his new armor, clipping the last bit of it over his forearms just as he was walking outside. Kirin lingered in the air for a moment, willing the storms that followed him to stay back and keep his position a secret. But Will spotted him anyway, because Kirin honestly wasn't trying that hard to hide.

Will had told him to get lost, and Kirin had flown a bit higher, further out of sight, before settling in to watch him. Will hadn't looked up at him again, but Kirin could see the way he forcibly turned from him now, locking up his muscles every time he came close to gazing up.

The distractions must have helped.

Will had spent the last hour crashing through the forest, flying with his arms braced in front of him to block the whipping branches and flying leaves. He dove into the trees and flew the circumference of his territory, before going straight up, writing a few things down on a notebook tucked in a secret compartment in the armor plating over his thighs, before he dove back in. It wasn't the most graceful way to test out a new armor set, but it was certainly a sight to see.

Kirin settled in for the long haul in the sky. Theoretically he had work to do, but Parvis still refused to show himself, and thus create an in for Kirin to be invited to the castle and inspect his blood work, and the work at home didn't appeal to him. According to Lying, the Central Circle was getting nervous about his sporadic magic releases, but Kirin couldn't help that.

Will spun back up to the surface from the forest again, leaves and twigs flying off him. He hovered in the air a moment, writing something down again. Kirin was almost tempted to ask about what he was scribbling, but it would be terribly boring science mumbo jumbo about the suit's capabilities. Perhaps Will was hoping it would be tough enough to keep Kirin himself at bay.

It would have been interesting, to see Will try it.

Soon after the forest tests came the animals. Will brought out his disassembler, the weapon and tool of choice, and hunted along the ground for easy kills. Kirin didn't mind; overworld animals weren't from the Twilight, and thus not under his domain. He did wish Will would take it a bit easy, though. His swings were getting violent.

When Will had cleaved a pig's head off without even looking at it, only catching the movement of something alive, Kirin sighed, and descended. “Strife!” he called, as he touched down in the forest near where Will had stopped to take a breath.

Will looked up, eyes narrowed. “What do you want?” His breath was faint, and his chest rose with shallow pants of air.

Kirin eyed the blood on the disassembler, and trailed his eyes down to Will, raising a brow. “Do you truly need to go to such lengths to be sure your armor can protect you? Such killing happens often enough in this world without adding to it unnecessarily.”

Tugging at the gloves hooked on the edges of his arm plating, Will shrugged. “I have to test it somehow.” He paused, glancing up. “You must be enjoying the show so very much, to come down here and tell me to stop for no apparent reason.”

Kirin smirked. All that bottled up energy; no wonder Will needed an outlet. “It _is_ a good show, but it isn't your usual method. I wondered what the sudden change was.”

Will tensed, and turned around, fidgeting with the chest plate. “None of your business.”

Kirin opened his mouth, but the words caught at the sight of Will's back, peeking out from the edges of the armor as he moved it. Pale, glowing cuts, several of them spread along his shoulders. They were only visible for a second, when Will's armor tugged at the neck of his shirt underneath, but it was enough.

He'd seen those cuts before, on Will. They didn't seem to be the same cuts, either, those were fresh. But they were the same, small but deep and bright as the freckles on Will's skin.

For a man who played with genetics, he didn't bother to use it to heal his own skin. Kirin frowned, pursing his lips. His own injuries were magic, rooted in something so deep that he couldn't fix it with spells alone, but Will's cuts were simple injuries. Weren't they?

Will glared over his shoulder. “Are you going to keep standing there?”

Kirin blinked, and stepped back, floating in the air a few inches. “My apologies, Strife. I can watch from a safe distance.”

“That's not--” Will stopped, and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fine, whatever.” He turned his face up, kicking off as he started his jetpack, and flew low over the forest trees. Kirin moved higher and watched from a faraway perch in the sky, unable to stop watching Will's back now that he'd seen the glowing cuts along his skin.

Will spent another hour flying around his base, settling at the front door of his tower when he'd finished. Kirin flew behind him and descended, waiting until Will took off his helmet to speak. “Strife?” he asked, calm and quiet.

Turning, Will raised a brow. “Yes?”

Kirin held up a hand. “I wanted to ask you something, if it isn't too much trouble.”

Will's eyes narrowed, and he faced Kirin directly, backing up a step towards the door. “What is it? I don't have any magic to offer you.”

Kirin's face softened, and he held his hand out, extending his fingers. Electric magic and glowing blood, almost like Will's own, seeped from the cracks in the seams of his skin. If Kirin weren't careful, he would only get worse, and he didn't have the time to fix himself. Not with the cuts littering Will's body, as fresh as the day Kirin first saw them. “I have magic of my own,” Kirin said, smiling. “But I hoped you would let _me_ give _you_ some of it.”

Will went stiff, arms coming out, one in front to block attacks, the other moving behind him to grab his disassembler, laying dormant at the moment but ready to use in an instant.

“Strife,” Kirin said. “Trust me, I won't hurt you.”

It took a few minutes of patience, standing there with his open palm up in offer, for Kirin to calm Will down. Once Will had relaxed a bit, Kirin stepped closer, careful to keep his hands away from Will's body just yet. “I've seen the cuts on your back,” he said, watching Will's face. “I wanted to ask if you would let me heal them.”

That brought Will right back to being tense, though his eyes weren't as strong. They glowed bright with the green of Will's alien nature, but he was watching Kirin openly, curious. “They're fine,” he said, shoulders rolling back a few degrees. “I don't need magic to heal them.”

“But they aren't natural injuries, are they?” Kirin glanced briefly at Will's shoulder, the shift in the armor that pulled against his shirt, the barest peak of pale skin. “They aren't made from things like testing out your armor.”

“I'm healing,” Will snapped, so close to the door now that he was almost pressed up against it. Kirin didn't follow, too tall even without his antlers to fit in the doorway.

“I could help.” Kirin held his hand up again, spreading the fingers out and letting a shock of electricity dance over his palm. “Please?”

It wasn't often that Kirin asked others for favors; favors meant owing someone, even a favor like this. But those cuts looked too much like the magic piercing Kirin's own flesh for him to leave them alone. He wouldn't let Will suffer damage from magic, and try to heal it with machinery and natural processes. It might work, but not for a very long amount of time.

Will watched him, tracing his eyes over Kirin's body. Kirin stayed still, keeping himself open and vulnerable. When Will looked at his eyes again, meeting Kirin’s blue with dark green irises framed by neon the shade of the Twilight Forest fireflies, he sighed, and stood up straight. “You won't go away until I let you do whatever it is you're asking, will you?”

“Only once,” Kirin promised. “I'll try once, and leave you alone.”

“Fine.” Will ran a hand through his hair, and opened his door. “Come in.”

When they walked inside, Will shed his armor, pulling the collar of his shirt up around his neck. Kirin kept a distance, letting Will settle, and feeling out his own magic in the meantime. He could sense it churning beneath his skin, ready to strike at a moment's notice, and Kirin took a deep breath, focusing it. It would boil and burn and cascade over his whole body, if he didn't keep it concentrated somewhere. This time, he chose his hands, the easiest to work with, and flexed his fingers as the power lit up his fingertips.

“How are we doing this?” Will asked, facing Kirin again. He leaned his weight on one leg, standing awkwardly. “You realize I don't really have experience with this.”

“It's fine.” Kirin took another breath, and met Will's gaze. “Sit down somewhere.”

Will obeyed, pulling up the stool from the kitchen. He didn't have much other furniture, the room filled with machines, and though Kirin would have preferred to sit with Will, to be on the same level as him, he could work this way, standing behind him and bringing up his hands.

“I'm going to touch you,” Kirin said. “Nothing intrusive. But it would help if you took off your shirt.”

Will grunted, and undid the first few buttons of his vest and shirt, tugging them down. He refused to take them off completely, but Will had exposed his shoulders, and that was a good enough start. Kirin hummed a calming tone as he placed both hands on either of Will's shoulders, feeling Will tense beneath his touch.

The second Kirin brushed the pad of his thumb over one of the cuts, he knew for sure they weren't natural. They'd seemed suspicious before, but now he couldn't doubt that they were created by blood magic. The taste of greed and death seeped from the thin filmy substance barely covering the cuts, the injured flesh almost visible under the green glow.

It burned brighter under Kirin's touch, and he could imagine Will blushing, though he was turned around. Kirin focused on the cuts, frowning. Injuries created and sustained by blood magic wouldn't be the easiest to heal, depending on the strength of those who made them. Kirin chose the highest cut on Will's shoulder, framing it with his fingers, and leaned a few inches closer.

Electric shocks danced over his skin, fighting their way out of Kirin's body, and he struggled to keep them away from Will as he poured what magic he could into the cut. The green blood flared, blindingly bright, and Kirin's magic burned to match, swirling around the taste of the foreign substance. Alien blood, something Kirin had never worked with, but he could feel the life in it, the energy, and it wasn't so different from any other mortal blood.

Something pushed back against Kirin's magic, forcing it out. Will groaned, barely a noise under his breath, but his muscles tensed further, and the thin skin stretched over his cut, threatening to break. Kirin tried again, shoving his magic at whatever infected the cut, but it lashed out, and, with a hiss, Kirin stepped back, hands in the air.

Will panted, heavy and sharp, and turned to glare over his shoulder. “What did you _do_?”

“It's not what _I_ did,” Kirin muttered, brows furrowed. The cut he'd tried to heal looked exactly the same, except perhaps the light of Will's blood was stronger, rushing to the wound. The natural processes of Will's body worked perfectly fine to heal it, but something in him had rejected Kirin's magic, shoving him away.

Whoever made those cuts was a powerful mage, and Kirin didn't doubt for a second that it was Parvis' magic that had done it. “I'm sorry,” Kirin said. “I couldn't heal your wounds.”

“Oh, well.” Will shrugged, turning away as he pulled his shirt back up, buttoning the shirt one button too many and yanking the collar high over his neck. “Thanks anyway. I told you they're fine.”

Kirin hummed, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. “I don't suppose I could stay for a cup of tea? You look like you could use a minute of rest, and I wouldn't mind keeping you company.”

Will raised a brow, and slowly got off the stool. “Yeah, sure. Make yourself at home, whatever.” He waved in a vague direction, taking the kettle out and filling it with water.

Kirin made himself at home by watching Will, his eyes tracing over his back and arms, and picturing how many of those same sacrificial cuts littered the rest of his body.

 

* * *

 

The next time Will visited Parvis, he was pulled inside the castle door before his feet even touched the ground, slammed against the wall so hard that he could hear something in his jetpack crunch.

“Will!” Parvis yelled, eyes wide and gleaming, hands tight on Will's shoulders. “Will, you won't _believe_ what I found.”

Struggling, Will managed to pry Parvis' hands off him, and broke away, brushing down what little clothing peeked out from under his armor. “Jesus, Parvis, warn me next time you want to wrestle. I paid good resources for this armor, I don't want it chipped just because you can't control yourself.”

“You're not listening!” Parvis bounced on the balls of his feet, hands clenched into fists and swinging back and forth. “Will, I found the best thing ever! You're going to love it!”

Raising a brow, Will peeled off his jetpack and set it by the door. “Did you try researching the taint samples, like I told you to?” Will had taken some for himself, but hadn't gotten around to actually looking at them. Partly because he had other tasks to attend to first, and partly because the ethereal churn of the tainted goop inside its glass jars made him shudder. Will would never admit to the latter.

“It was boring,” Parvis said with a wave of his hand. “All they do is sit there and sometimes make bubbles. But!” He beamed again, with his Cheshire cat grin. “I found something so bloody useful, you won't believe! Come with me, come on.”

Will sighed and trailed after Parvis, taking quick steps to match Parvis' long gate, as they moved deep into the bowels of the castle. They stopped at the altar room, and Parvis crossed to some of the bookshelves Will had set up for him to organize all of the tomes he'd collected from dungeons. He went straight for a particular shelf and pulled out the one book that had been laid on its side, on top of the other books, and flipped it open. “Look, Strifeykins!”

Leaning over Parvis' shoulder, Will frowned at the intricate scrawl of runes on the page, followed by what looked like English, but was so muddled, he could barely tell. “What is it?”

“A blood binding ritual!” Parvis was practically jumping now, waving the book in Will's face. “It's for combining substances with the blood in the altar! I could use it for that taint stuff and see what happens.”

Will nearly reeled, frowning at Parvis. “That's a _terrible_ idea. You don't know what the taint will do to your blood. Have you even figured out the basic components of the taint goo? Or looked up anything about the taint?”

Parvis nodded, overturning Will's expectations. “There's not a lot,” Parvis said, whirling around to look at the bookshelf again, brushing his fingers of the spines of the books. “But everything I found talks about thaumaturgyand how the taint is a side effect of using it. Combining Thaum and blood magic makes for an extremely powerful type of magic. And if the taint is a dangerous side effect . . .” Parvis grinned, eyes wide. “What do you think would come of combining it with my blood?”

“Parvis,” Will cautioned, holding his hands up. “You can't be serious about this.”

“I'm _very_ serious, Will.” Parvis snapped the book shut and tucked it back on the shelf, facing him. “I've done the research, the altar is ready. I want to do a blood binding ritual. But I have to be sure that it works, first, before I waste any of the taint supplies we got.” Parvis moved past him, walking to the base of the altar and pausing there for a moment to look up at it, before climbing the stairs. “Come on, Will.”

“What?” Will recoiled, teeth almost bared with his lips pulled back in disgust. “I am not doing this with you, Parvis. Try it out with your precious taint. Or the blood of a cow, for heaven's sake! Not me.”

“Will,” Parvis said, patiently turning to look down at him from the pedestal. “I don't want to go back to the taint area to collect more samples if I mess this up. And I can't very well combine my blood with an _animal_ , what if I get a disease?”

Parvis chose now to worry about infection, after cutting himself numerous times, in an environment that was in no way sterile? After how many sacrifices for the sake of his magic? Will wanted to scoff, but Parvis' eyes were piercing him, narrow and accusing. “I have no idea how long you'll be in that tower of yours next time,” Parvis said, and his voice lilted again, light and teasing. “Let's do it while you're here, shall we?”

“I am not--” Will started.

“Come _on_!” Parvis whined, dropping his head back with a dramatic sigh. “I don't have all day to deal with your ridiculousness, Will. Let's hurry, the faster we do this, the faster you can leave and do whatever it is that's got you cooped up every day.”

Will's cheeks flared bright green, and he stormed up the pedestal. “Fine, then.”

Parvis grinned with his victory, stripping his coat to reveal his arms and reaching out, yanking Will's shirt up before Will could get a good grip on him. Will smacked at his hands, undoing the buttons himself, and Parvis moved to start preparing the altar.

Will had no idea how Parvis looped him into these ridiculous things, but the smile he wore as he gripped the edges of the altar, peering at the supply of blood poured into it, was like a little kid on their birthday. Will rolled his eyes when Parvis turned that look on him, and set his shirt carefully at the edges of the altar. “Can we get this over with?”

Parvis stood. “Right! I wanna see what alien blood does to me.”

“Not much, probably,” Will said, but his mumbled sarcasm went unnoticed. In the long run, losing some blood to make Parvis happy wasn't much, but if he gave in without kicking up a fuss, he'd be a doormat. So Will paused before stepping up to the altar, and tried to grab the knife from Parvis.

“Ah, ah,” Parvis said, holding it away from him. “I read the notes. I have to be the one to put the blood, or taint, or whatever, into the altar. Keep your hands up where I can see them, let me do this.”

The pause then was genuine, Will's brow drawn as he looked at Parvis. He'd never let Parvis touch him for a ritual, always drawing his own blood so he could judge the depth and the pain and stop when it was too much. He tried to grab for the knife again, and Parvis held it back, brows wiggling teasingly. “Stop being difficult, Strifeykins.”

“I'm not,” he said, and gave up, putting his hands at his sides. “Don't you dare cut too far, Parvis, I will hit you with my disassembler.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Parvis moved around the blood altar until he stood by Will's side, one hand pressing on the small of his back to keep him in place while the other pointed the knife at his chest. “You've got a lot of leftover cuts,” he mused, peeking at Will's back and chest.

“They take a long time to heal.”

“I bet the magic's strong,” Parvis murmured, leaning in close. Will jolted back, and Parvis' eyes got a bit wide, before he grinned. “Hold still for me, Will.” He held up his Dagger of Sacrifice, the knife used when Parvis wanted to draw blood from entities other than himself. Will tensed, but didn't let himself close his eyes, refusing to turn his awareness from Parvis and his, for lack of a better term, trigger-happy knife use.

Parvis pressed it to his chest, on the left side. Will had been told once that that was where the human heart was. He could feel his heartbeat, knew he had one and that he wasn't so different from humans, but the exact location of the heart in his chest was a fuzzy blur from anatomy classes taken long ago, that served little useful purpose to him now. But it made Will swallow, watching Parvis carefully place the knife in such a meaningful place for humans.

The knife dug in, hard, and Will gasped sharply. His hands reached out, seeking something to hold on to, to brace himself with, and Parvis' hand reached out to catch them, one hand clutching over Will's and letting Will's other clamp over his wrist. Parvis pushed the knife in, cutting skin and blood vessels, and it was such a long process, too long for the pain it gave. Will grit his teeth and hissed, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

When it ended, he could feel the blood pouring out, dripping over his chest. A hand pressed to his back, and Will stumbled when he was forced to lean over the blood altar. “Stay,” Parvis told him, crossing to the other side as he put the knife away and took out the Sacrificial Knife, cutting a quick slash in his arm. He put his own blood into the altar, while Will stood, panting, and let his glowing blood seep into it. The two bloods mixed together, nothing unlike what Will had seen before from helping Parvis with rituals.

But then he heard words, long and low and drawn out, and Parvis was mixing ingredients, pouring them in the altar as he whispered ancient words of magic and meaning. Will had never bothered to translate the garbage in Parvis' blood magic guides-- even if they meant something, they surely wouldn't apply after so many years of disuse, hidden away in a grimy book in the dungeons of the world-- but now he heard them recited like poetry, as Parvis leaned over the altar, their foreheads touching.

“Here we go, Strifeykins,” Parvis whispered, smiling. Will hadn't seen what he put in the altar, too distracted by how own pain, but he could see glittering trails and something pasty flowing in their blood at the center of the altar. Glowstone, and something else, but the magic of the altar drew even more blood from Will, and he clenched his hands around the edges of the altar as it poured from him, the glow of it getting dimmer by the minute.

It couldn't have been soon enough that Parvis said, “It's finished,” and Will collapsed to the ground. He only spent a minute there, resting his head on the cool stone, before he forced himself to get up. Standing made him dizzy, and he only barely remembered to cover the cut on his chest with his hand, applying pressure, as he shakily made his way down the pedestal and searched their chests for anything close to medical supplies.

They didn't have any potions, unfortunately. Parvis didn't have the patience to brew them. A potion of healing didn't work on Will quite the same as the humans he'd met, the symbiotes in his blood protesting the sudden changes the mixtures always brought that disrupted their careful balance of give and take in Will's system, but it would have helped all the same.

Will settled for a bit of water from one of their spare bottles-- a consequence of all of Parvis' witch killing-- and the extra bandages he'd learned to keep tucked away. His blood had dripped across the floor in his haste to patch himself up, and Will turned away from it as he tied bandages over his chest.

“Will!” Parvis called from the altar. “Will, I think it worked!”

“You think?” Will furrowed his brow and turned, ready to chew Parvis out for making him do such a dangerous ritual, and stopped dead.

Parvis was at the top of the steps, staring at his own skin. Parvis didn't have freckles or ampullae, or nodes of any sort like Will had decorating his skin, but there was a slight tint to his skin, a faint green pigmentation that would be hard to spot if someone didn't explicitly look for it. Will saw it after catching Parvis' eyes, the way they showed the green glow of his own blood. “I'm like a glowstick!” Parvis said, laughing.

“It . . . worked.” Will swallowed, and tightened the bandage around his chest. Already, he could see the gash on Parvis' arm healing, taking from the altar to repair his flesh and skin. Will didn't have the same luxury.

“It fucking _worked,_ ” Parvis echoed, laughing in his delight. “Will, do you know what this means? I could do so much with this!” He waved his arm a little, watching the glow of it, and beamed.

It wouldn't last, not permanently. The symbiotes might have bonded to Parvis' blood with the help of the ritual, but they wouldn't be able to live in his body for long. Humans hadn't evolved to fit their needs. At least, Will hoped that were true.

He didn't know if he could stand to see Parvis glowing like that for very long.

Parvis came down from the altar and pulled Will in, kissing him roughly on the mouth. Will jumped, but let Parvis streak his heavy tongue over the seam before he broke away. “You did so good, Will.” His eyes fell half lidded. “You're a wonderful helper.”

Will would have said something to acknowledge that, but that moment was when his knees chose to give out underneath him.

 

* * *

 

Will looked worse than awful, the next time Kirin tried to pay him a visit.

He knocked on the door, as he was wont to do, and waited patiently for Will to open it. It took longer than it should have, and when the door finally opened, Will almost crashed straight into Kirin.

Will's hand caught of the door, and he groaned, rubbing at his face, knees still bent from almost falling over. Kirin took a step back, eyes wide, and watched as Will dragged himself up against the wall, propping his head on the frame. “What is it?” he asked, voice low and mumbled.

He hadn't even asked Kirin what his business was, and that alone would be a red flag, without the circles pressed under Will's eyes and that fact that he was wearing a _knit sweater,_ for heaven's sake.

When Kirin didn't answer, Will heaved a loud sigh. “Go away, if you have nothing important to do here.”

If Will moved another step, he would collapse. Kirin frowned. “Are you sick?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Will mumbled, tired eyes peering up at him. “I have better things to do today, than babysit you.”

Kirin's brow furrowed. “You look like the one who needs babysitting.” He looked past Will, at the tower interior, but no one else was around. “Do you have someone to take care of you?”

“I don't need it.” Will pushed on the doorway, dragging himself into a standing position. “And if you'd be so kind as to leave me alone—”

“Can I come in?” Kirin asked, fast and hopeful.

Will stopped, pursing his lips. It was only then that Kirin noticed the glow of his skin, and how dim it was. Will always glowed bright from his freckles and eyes, and now he was barely illuminated. Something was _wrong_ with him.

“Why?” Will asked, and raised his hand to rub his cheek again.

“Please,” Kirin begged, not quite letting desperation leek into his voice, but coming close. “Strife, can I come into the tower?”

Will hummed, and stood back from the door, waving a hand for Kirin to come inside. It was as good as he'd get, and Kirin moved inside, shutting the door behind him. The tower was the same as usual, machines humming away, and the portals on the floors above making strange, hollow noises. But there was also a scent of herbs in the air, and the temperature had been racked up.

Even so, Will shivered under his sweater, tugging the material closer.

“Bed,” Kirin said, taking up Will's arm in a large hand. Will went stiff, and Kirin stopped, waiting for Will to cuss him out. But Will only mumbled again and pressed into him, moving his face over Kirin's robes and inhaling deep. “You _are_ sick,” Kirin said, and pulled Will again.

The bed was upstairs, without much of a bedroom to speak of. It was a small room, with the bed and a single table, a torch lit above the bed to keep the monsters away. Kirin moved Will until he was settled on the mattress, pulling the blankets over him. “Do you--” Kirin bit his lip. He hadn't been sick since his mortal days, which he could barely remember, and he wasn't sure what the protocol was for treating someone with an illness. Especially if he didn't know what that illness was.

“'M fine,” Will whispered, pulling his pillow closer. “I don't need help.”

“I'd beg to differ.” Kirin resisted the urge to pat Will, but indulged in stroking through his pretty blond hair. “You look and sound like death, Strife. Let me help you for a little while.”

Will glared from his pillows, before burrowing further into them. “No.”

Kirin rolled his eyes. He'd already managed to get into Will's home; there wasn't much he could do to stop Kirin at this point.

Food was good, that much he knew. Will didn't seem like he had intestinal problems. Food would probably help. Kirin glanced at him, and saw Will's breath steadying, arms wrapped in a death grip around his pillows. Reassured, Kirin left the bedroom, and went downstairs to the meager area with one furnace, a cupboard, and a chest of supplies, that Will called a kitchen.

After setting a pot of water on for tea, Kirin rummaged in the chest, and frowned. All that Will had was various supplies of cooked and raw meat. He didn't seem to be sick enough that he couldn't eat, but Kirin wasn't sure he could keep down something so solid and thick.

While the water boiled, Kirin took out a piece of the cooked meat and sliced it with the knife in his inventory. Once it was in small, easy to swallow pieces, he put it on a plate and set it over the furnace, moving the now hot water and making a cup of tea.

He hadn't ever treated anyone with an illness before, besides himself.

When the food was prepared as best Kirin could do it-- he used so many hunger warding spells for himself, he wasn't sure he could recall the last time he’d properly cooked-- he brought the tea and meat up the stairs, to Will's room.

Will was on the bed still, turned on his stomach. Kirin bumped the door closed with his hip, and set the food on the lone table in the room. He stood up, looking down at Will, seeing his chest move with deep, heavy breaths, and the whites of his knuckles as they continued to clutch at the sheets and pillows. There was a fine sheen of sweat on his forehead. Kirin glanced around, and finally wrapped a bit of his sleeve over his palm, reaching out and wiping the sweat away.

Opening his eyes, Will frowned. “What are you doing?” he asked, his voice already raspy from being half asleep.

“Feeding you,” Kirin said. “Can you sit up?”

Brows knit close together, Will grunted and turned on his side. He propped an elbow underneath himself, his arms shaking, and Kirin reached out automatically to help him, one hand on Will's back and the other around his bicep as he pulled Will up. “Sorry,” he muttered, and let go.

Will threatened to fall backwards as soon as Kirin let go, and Kirin put his hand over Will's back again, holding him steady. “Are you all right?”

“Obviously not,” Will said, trying to scoff and getting more of a choking noise. “I'm half dazed and fucking _cold_. God damn it.”

Will didn't often swear unless he was at his wit's end, and Kirin frowned. “We'll get some food in you,” he said.

“Tea?” was Will's immediate response, looking at him through glassy eyes, and though the vague look concerned him, Kirin laughed.

“Yes,” Kirin said, and reached back to pick the mug off the table. “Tea.”

Will took it greedily, trying to slurp it down. Kirin held the cup and forced him to drink slowly, the hand on Will's back rubbing up and down as he panted and swallowed. The herbs smelled strong, fresh and bitter, and Kirin had to wonder if Will went to the trouble of making the tea mixtures himself.

Once he'd gotten half the cup down, Kirin forced it from Will's mouth, and brought up the plate of meat instead. “I didn't have a fork,” he said, setting the plate in Will's lap. “But I cut the pieces small. You really should have more food than just meat, Strife.”

“Fills me up,” Will said, blinking slowly. “Don't need to eat as often.”

Kirin tilted his head. “That sounds an awful lot like not taking care of yourself.”

Will shot him the worst glare he could muster, with mussed hair and tired eyes. “Since when do you even . . .” He stopped, licking his lips. “Why'd you come?”

“Why? To help.”

“No,” Will said, drawing the word out until his voice got raspy again. “No, why did you come here in the first place? You didn't _know_ I was sick. Unless-- unless you did.” Will's brows furrowed at the thought, and he cut another sharp look at Kirin. “Did you?”

Kirin shook his head. “I promise, I didn't intend to be your nurse when I came today.”  

“I didn't—” Will coughed into his elbow. “I didn't say _that_.”

“But you implied it.” Kirin pushed the plate closer. “Eat.”

Sitting at the side of Will's bed, Kirin watched him choke down a few pieces of the beef, before taking the tea mug again and chugging more of it. Kirin held the cup back after the first few swigs, keeping it at the edge of Will's lips to prevent him from drowning himself. Once the cup was nearly empty, Kirin took it back, poked the plate until Will ate some more, and let him have the rest of the tea.

“I can make more,” Kirin said, holding the cup as he set the plate on the table. “But you need to sleep.” At least, Kirin _thought_ he did, but the sleep earlier had seemed to help, and Will kept slowly blinking like he might keel over any second.

Fuck, he really did look like death. Tired, sunken eyes, a lack of his usual glowing freckles and eyes, slumped over in an enormous wool sweater that Kirin thought Will Strife would never be caught dead wearing. And he _might_ be caught dead in it if he didn't recover soon, but Kirin still wasn't sure if he were doing things right. It had been so long since he'd treated a mortal for anything besides a flesh wound--

A smack to his cheek brought Kirin back to reality, and he looked down.

Will had managed to sit up on his knees, hand held out from slapping Kirin. A bold move, especially for Will, but he was blinking slow again, and probably not in the best state of mind.

“Whatever you're staring at,” Will said, pausing between his words to collect himself, “stop it. Make me more tea if you're not going to do anything else.”

He slumped back on the bed as soon as he was finished, breathing hard, and shook his head to clear it. “Excuse the slap,” he said, as if just realizing how bad it was, “but I'd rather you not be here if you're just going to stand around. I don't have the energy to throw a sales pitch at you.”

Ah, _there_ was the old Will Strife. Kirin smiled, laughing quietly. “I'll make more tea,” he said, and grabbed the edges of the blankets, tugging them over Will's legs. “Rest for a while.”

Will narrowed his eyes, but couldn't resist obeying, pulling up the blankets and settling back on the pillows. When Will settled, Kirin left, bringing the cup downstairs and filling up the pot again, settling with his hips against the counter while he waited for it to boil.

He reached up to feel where Will had slapped him. The sting had gone away, but he could still feel the touch like a ghost, lingering over his skin. It might have been the first time Will had voluntarily touched him.

When Kirin drew his hand back, he stopped, and frowned. He turned his hand over to look at the back over it, peering at the skin where it broke and flaked, how the blue and white shine of his magic pierced the fragile surface, underneath his nails. He could barely see it, but the faintest beginnings of black were seeping into the tips of his fingers, covering the natural red pigmentation.

The edges of his human skin were breaking down. Kirin hissed, shaking his arm to let the sleeves of his robe fall down and cover it. The water boiled, steam rising from the kettle as a faint whistle started, and Kirin hurried to refresh Will's tea, ignoring the stained edges of his fingers peeking out of his clothes.

Will was sitting up when Kirin came back, but the pale quality of his skin wasn't so prominent, and his glow not so faded as it had been a minute ago. Kirin glanced to the right, and saw that more of the meat was gone from the plate. He closed the bedroom door and walked up to the bed, resisting another laugh as Will looked up and held his hands out, grabbing for the tea.

“Sip slowly,” Kirin reminded him, as Will's hands closed around the mug.

“I know,” Will shot back, brow furrowed.

Kirin watched him, and caught Will watching him back. He settled on the floor, still almost as tall as Will sitting on the bed, and taller if he counted the height of his antlers. Under the sweater, Kirin could see the edges of the scars, but they didn't look any worse than they had when he'd seen them before.

Will was flinching every time he bent over, though, and Kirin's eyes zeroed in on his chest. Will kept clutching his hands to it, still holding the mug, and when Kirin bothered to breath deep, to take in the magic of the room, he could feel something low and sharp in the general direction of the bed, coming straight from Will.

“Care to reveal what’s bothering you?” Kirin asked, raising a brow.

Will jumped, the tea sloshing in his mug, one hand still covering his chest. “No,” he said, short and curt, and buried himself back in the tea.

There was no way Will would show him anything, feeling vulnerable like this. Kirin stood again, and, after a moment's hesitation, peeled away the edges of his shirt. His outer robe covered a thin white shirt underneath, the sleeves shorter and the collar more exposed. Kirin folded his robe and laid it on the table next to Will's plate, taking a spot at the base of the bed. He could almost feel the magic burn at the ends of his fingertips, the creases of his neck, and he looked Will dead on.

“We all have things to hide,” he said, gaze moving down to Will's chest, and back up to his eyes. “You don't have to feel ashamed, Strife.”

Will colored green, finally bright again after eating well and drinking his tea, but he clutched his mug closer and brought his knees up. “What makes you say that?”

Kirin could see where his hands had folded, near the left side of his chest, tilting the mug carefully away from his sweater. He sighed, and shook his head. “Nothing. I was only making conversation.”

Will still eyed him, but Kirin didn't do anything more, letting himself be exposed under Will's gaze as Will finished his drink and lay back on the bed. Kirin moved to give him room to stretch out, waiting until Will was asleep before grabbing his robes back up and pulling them on.

Though dark circles still lingered under his eyes, Will looked much better than he had when Kirin came over, and Kirin left the tower with a vague sense of satisfaction.

The way Will had guarded his injured chest still bothered him, but he wouldn't force a confession if Will didn't want to make it.

 

* * *

 

In a world of magic, advanced technology, and more monsters than a person could count, healing magic was surprisingly lacking.

It all focused on preserving the self, on fighting, and Kirin exhausted nearly all of his library looking for a spell that could work well on someone else without taking something away from them. It was all so _selfish_ , and every spell he could find was about making a person owe a debt or somehow taking their life force in the process of helping them.

He leaned heavily on one of the many bookshelves, horns digging into the wood. He missed the days when the horns weren't there, or even just corporeal, ghostly things that didn't hinder his maneuverability. Now he had to consciously turn his head away to keep his mournful position of tucking his head into the side of the bookshelf without putting too much pressure on his antlers or ram horns. All in all, it would have served him better not to lean on it.

But he was tired, and Kirin spent another few minutes bemoaning his own troubles before he felt a faint tingle at the base of his neck, followed by a sharp voice.

“Are we practicing being useless again today?”

Kirin groaned and stood up, rubbing his eyes before he turned them down to Lying. “I do not need this today,” he said, walking past them to leave the room. Lying following easily, with fast steps and fluttering robes.

“What,” they said, “is 'this'? I haven't done anything yet.”

“'Yet' being the key word.” Kirin stopped and reached out, tweaking one of Lying's red fox ears where it peeked out from under their hat. “I have work to do.”

“I noticed.” Lying swatted his hand away, covering their ear and pulling their hat down further. “What _are_ you doing with all of the healing magic, lately? It's been causing a ruckus, all the energy you've dragged up to test it out.”

Kirin moved past them to go to his altar, grabbing some witchery items from his inventory. He'd thought the right brew might do the trick, but everything in witchery was focused on curses. There were a few new recipes to try, some of his own invention, but they took time because everything involved smelting. Kirin bent over his cauldron, ignoring Lying for the moment.

“Breath of the Goddess, redstone, mandrake,” Lying counted under their breath. “Are you--” They stopped, giggling heartily. “Are you trying to make a healing brew? Since when have you needed outside help healing?”

“Since now,” Kirin said, waving a hand to shush them. “Let me concentrate.”

“Oh, do show me what your intentions are, please.” Lying rocked on their heels, grinning like a cat. “If _you_ don't need the healing potions-- and do not try to convince me that you do-- then who would they be for? Certainly not your little _alien_ friend, hm?”

Kirin bristled. “You don't need to know, and unless you have useful advice to offer me, I'd prefer to be alone. Making new potions from scratch takes too much focus for me to be chatting idly about how superior you are.”

“Kirin!” Lying mock gasped, and Kirin could see them put a hand to their chest in his peripheral vision, even as he mixed his ingredients in the cauldron. “Paying me such a subpar compliment, you _must_ be frazzled.”

“Lying,” Kirin said, gritting his teeth.

In response, Lying snickered again, and there was a harsh pull on Kirin's antlers. He grunted when he felt shoes on his back, the heels digging in, and Lying climbed up to perch on his shoulders, grinning down at him with one hand stroking over one of the prongs on his horns. “The little luminan boy had got you all in a twist.”

“I'm trying to work,” Kirin said, reaching for Lying's ankles, but they pulled their feet up, something new slithering around Kirin's waist. They had let their fox tails out, dropping the glamour in favor of holding tighter to Kirin's body and keeping themselves in place.

“You're acting like a human,” Lying said, voice twisting unpleasantly around the last word. “Concerned for the health of another with no thought of your own gain. What happened to the Kirin I knew who asked the luminan boy to take down a liche for him without so much as batting an eyelash?” Lying raised an eyebrow. “Now you're doing him _favors_ without even asking for anything in return.”

Kirin paused at that, lips pursed. He'd helped others in the area, given them gifts and advice without asking a favor. He'd given supplies to the witches and the unofficial police of the area, and he'd taken Mickey to the fluxed pair to take care of. But then, he'd given those supplies with the good faith that his kindness wouldn't go unnoticed. Lomadia hadn't taken her eye off him since he'd first dropped by, and the Magic Police ran when they heard his name. Even Nano, in all her strength, moved to a defensive position whenever he popped in to visit the questing ram he'd dropped on their doorstep.

Now, all he wanted was for Will to be healthy. He hadn't thought about what he wanted in return, and if Kirin were honest, he didn't particularly care to ask Will for anything.

“Kirin?”

He blinked, and saw Lying in front of him. They'd dropped from his shoulder, fox tails twisting behind them, the ends flicking nervously. “Where did you go?” Lying asked, tilting their head.

“Nowhere,” Kirin mumbled. “And, look.” He eyed Lying as he bent back down to tend to his potion. “Friends are nothing to be ashamed of, and if I want to help Will, that's my business. If I didn't want friends, I wouldn't let _you_ keep dropping by.”

“You wouldn't be able to stop me,” Lying pointed out.

“But you don't have to come, either. Whatever the Circle says and what you're doing with them, you're here because you want to be.” Kirin looked them in the eye. “Aren't you?”

Lying frowned, and scoffed. “That is absurd,” they said. “It doesn't matter either way, because I didn't say friendship was the problem.” They leveled Kirin with a hard stare. “You're smitten with the alien boy, and I daresay romance is a bit more complicated, at least with you.”

Kirin closed his eyes, sighing. “I haven't had anything close to romance in many, many years. What makes you think I would start now?”

“A taste for neon green,” Lying said, and laughed at their own joke, showing teeth in their smile. “If you want to play with the little luminan, I won't stop you. It's not my business. But.” Lying nudged Kirin’s leg with the toe of their shoe, until Kirin looked up. Lying narrowed their eyes. “Be careful with all of your magic use. The Central Circle is getting restless again.”

“Right, sure.” Kirin nodded and turned back to his potion.

Another sigh from Lying, and a shiver wracked the air, trailing invisible sparks down Kirin's neck. When he glanced up again, Lying was gone.

Good riddance. All the more focus Kirin could put toward his potion. Lying would be back soon enough, and he needed all the time he could get.

 

* * *

 

When Will had healed enough to drag himself out of bed, he went to Castle Parv, and found Parvis leaning over his altar, nose almost touching the swirling blood inside it. Will took off his jetpack and walked up the pedestal, calling, “Parvis?”

Jolting, Parvis looked up, and smiled. “Strifeykins, you're back! I thought you would be lazing in bed forever!”

“A few days,” Will said, resisting the urge to feel a hand over his chest. The wound had scarred over, leaving a thin film of skin that glowed with the same color of his blood. It tugged against itself every time Will stretched the skin, and he had to move gingerly. His eyes still ached and the desire to nap rose up every few minutes, but Will pushed it down. If he'd stayed away from Parvis for much longer, Parvis would have come looking for him.

“What are you doing?” Will asked, standing by the altar and crossing his arms. The blood swirled and pulsed inside it, as it usually did, but the way Parvis stared hit Will unpleasantly, as though Parvis had discovered his new favorite food was incredibly poisonous and he was deciding whether or not to keep eating it.

Parvis would always keep eating, of course.

“I found another taint patch,” he said, still looking at Will. “I went there this morning.”

Will bristled. “You went there _without me_? Parvis, what if you had died?”

“I didn't, though.” Parvis moved past him, down the pedestal, and opened one of the chests he kept near the altar. “I even managed to get a good sample, look.” He lifted a bottle from the chest, carrying it up to pass into Will's hands.

Will's first instinct was to run, to drop the bottle and never think about the taint again. But he locked his muscles, clamping his hand around the bottle, and tilted it to peer inside.

One of the spiders that came out of the strange, tainted eggs in the taint biomes. It rattled around inside the bottle, climbing up and down the sides and skittering over the underside of the cork. When it faced Will, he could see its bright purple eyes, shining in the light. “Why did you take this?” Will asked, holding the bottle out as far as he could from his body.

Snatching it from his grasp, Parvis turned the bottle over and stared at the spider. “It's something living, Will. I can use it for the blood binding. I'll need more than just one to have enough blood, but I can make it work.” He looked up, grinning. “I can be tainted without hurting myself, and I'll be stronger than ever.”

“Parvis!” Will shivered at the thought and fought to keep a straight face, glaring Parvis down. “Do you know how horrible of an idea that is?”

“It's brilliant, though!” Parvis held up the spider again, jostling it in its container. “You've seen those fluxy scientists, they have so much power! All their machines and new magic. I spied on them, Will, I saw them doing thaumaturgy! Do you know how hard it is to master thaumaturgy?”

“You _spied_ on them?”

“For a little bit.” Parvis started to pace, not sensing Will's disbelief in the slightest. The spider rattled harder in its bottle. “I found their lab, right? Because I knew they were tainted and I wanted to see how they did it, how they managed to get into the flux and not _die_. I'm still not sure, but they've managed to go so far! So many machines, and all this witchery bullshit and thaum supplies. How do they manage that while being tainted?”

He stopped, heels skidding on the stone bricks, and faced Will. “I want to harness the taint. It kills everything it touches, people are _afraid_ of it. Like people should be afraid of _me_.”

Will's eyes darted between the bottled spider and Parvis' eyes. The deep brown color shone with something new, something Will hadn't seen before, and if he looked hard enough, he could swear he saw a red glint to compliment Parvis' natural color.

“I'm going to taint my blood,” Parvis said, clutching the top of the bottle, nearly pulling the cork out with the fierceness of his grip. “With my blood magic, I'll be the most powerful thing this world has ever seen. I could challenge _Kirin_ , if I wanted to.”

Will swallowed and backed up a step. “Parvis,” he said slowly. “I think you're losing sight of what's important.” His eyes flicked to the bottle again, the skittering spider. “The taint isn't something to help you, it will kill you, if you aren't careful. Think about that for a minute.”

Laughter shook Parvis' shoulders, and he grinned again, teeth gleaming with the edges of bloodstains. “I can't die, Will. I have my blood.” He gestured to the altar. “And I have you.” He pointed to Will, grinning wider. “Blood magic requires sacrifice, Will. I'm willing to make it.” Moving close, Parvis set the bottle at the edge of the altar, inches from toppling into the swirling red void. The spider had stopped moving, but Parvis drew Will's attention away when he cupped both his cheeks. “We're in this together,” Parvis whispered, metallic breath ghosting over Will's face. “We've been together this long, Strifeykins. Are you going to abandon me now?”

The touch of bloodied hands slid over Will's cheeks, smearing his skin. Parvis leaned in, bending down and mouthing at his neck, dragging heavy teeth over Will's pulse point. With a loud gasp, Will wrenched away, shoving at Parvis' hands until they released his face and he had the space to breath, panting hard with his eyes screwed shut.

His hands still lay over Parvis' chest, and Parvis took them by the wrists, stepping away from Will's thin hands to curl his own fingers over them. His bloodied hands covered Will’s knuckles and wrists, across the skin and freckles on the back of his hand. He couldn't see the shine of his own blood underneath Parvis’ touch.

 

* * *

 

Weeks passed, and Will got worse.

Kirin had thought, had _hoped_ , that it would end after that big stint, where Will dressed in comfort clothes and curled up in bed and barely managed to be his surly self with such dark circles under his eyes. He'd hoped Will would heal properly and go back to being a busy manager who occasionally visited Parvis.

If Will had gotten better, Kirin could have asked about Parvis and gotten details, but as he waited for Will to heal, to be in the right frame of mind for questions, Will only fell more and more ill.

It didn't happen all at once. At first, Kirin thought he was getting better. He recovered after Kirin spent some time taking care of him, and the moment Will could stand on two feet, he'd ordered Kirin out, claiming a need to work and demi-gods being extreme disturbances. Kirin had laughed and taken it in stride, already planning to visit again another time.

But the next time he came, Will was slumped over his machines, eyes drooping and shoulders slumped, knees quaking with the effort of holding himself up. He could barely look at Kirin when he tried to speak with him, and the glow of his skin, which had improved the last time Kirin had seen him, was dim again.

Kirin had dragged a vaguely protesting Will to bed, made him tea, and waited.

He'd recovered in a few hours, but when Kirin left, he still wasn't glowing as bright, his eyes dim, and Kirin had stuck around the tower for a few extra hours to watch him.

Time marched on, but rather than get better, Will degraded. He stopped wearing the tight vest over his clothes, and then traded his heels for slippers. How much shorter Will really was, wearing flat shoes instead of the ridiculous heeled boots he normally insisted on, would have made Kirin laugh if he weren't so worried.

Then the collared shirt and tailored pants went, too, and Will was hunched over his machines in a heavy knit sweater and thick pajama pants. Kirin spent less time on his own work, and less time worrying about Parvis' blood magic, and spent that time focused on Will. He tried to watch from outside Solutions Tower, at first, but the concern tugged at him, and eventually he started coming inside, saying a quick hello and making excuses about being bored, before settling in a corner to watch Will work.

He might not have gotten away with it, but Will was so far gone that he didn't seem to care about random guests making themselves at home in his business.

Eventually Will started falling asleep at his machines, and sometimes, while standing up. Kirin always caught him when it happened, dragging him to bed against Will's quiet protests.

Kirin tried to find something to help, but there weren't any potions that would keep a person awake, only brews that put them to sleep for nightmare and dreaming purposes. He certainly didn't want Will to take a potion and be transported to a nightmare world, even if he needed the rest. He was taking care of falling asleep rather well by himself, anyway.

He'd caught sight of one of Will's experiments when Will fell asleep working on his genetic projects. Kirin saw the telltale sway, and moved to catch him. As Will fell backwards against his chest, Kirin had glanced at his work, and seen his own glowing blood laid on a sample slide under a microscope.

He wouldn't doubt Will was trying to change his own genetics to heal his growing health problems.

Now, Kirin flew through the air, coming to visit Will yet again. It was the third day in the row, but he had to. The day before, Will had almost collapsed, standing next to his DNA analyser one minute, and falling the next. Kirin's speed let him get to Will before he bashed his head in, but Will had been asleep by the time Kirin caught him, dead to the world with exhaustion. Kirin couldn't sit at his own home and work while he knew Will was courting severe illness.

He descended next to the tower, knocking on the door once. He heard a faint, “come in,” and entered without ceremony, glancing around to find Will.

Kirin spotted him curled up in the kitchen, a heavy cushion and several blankets piled up in front of the cooking furnace. Will had a cup of tea in his hands, and had turned to look at Kirin, sleepy eyes blinking slowly. It would have been more endearing if Will weren't in terrible health, and even then, it was fairly adorable.

Walking slow, Kirin stepped up to him, looking down at Will. “What are you doing?” he asked, traces of amusement in his tone.

“Keeping warm,” Will said, sipping his tea. “I don't know of a much better way than to sit in front of a fire.” There was light sarcasm there, but Will didn't have his usual frown, only staring at Kirin expectantly.

“Well,” Kirin said, weighing his options. “I might know one way to be even warmer.”

Will raised an eyebrow, as Kirin bent down to the floor beside him. Kirin removed his outer robes, settling them on the floor around them, and took a spot directly behind Will. “Do you trust me?” he said, as he opened his legs and put his arms over his knees, cracking a small smile.

“No,” Will said, but it was faint, half hearted. “Yes,” he decided, when Kirin continued smiling at him. “Maybe?”

“Don't worry.” Kirin leaned forward, touching Will's shoulder, and pushed, encouraging him to move back. Will hesitated, but obeyed, moving back and into Kirin's hold. Kirin's legs, so much longer than Will's, closed around him, his knees up to Will's chin, and Kirin crossed his ankles.

His arms came across Will's chest, so big that he could have wrapped around Will and hugged his own sides. Kirin moved, careful of his horns and antlers, and pushed his nose into Will's hair, breathing light and tickling the blond strands.

“What are you doing?” Will didn't screech in protest or try to wriggle away, but he tensed, hands clutched around his cup of tea.

“Warming you up,” Kirin said. He could feel the blazing fire in the furnace, and Will's body was freezing in contrast, shivering against him. All his body heat was gone, biological processes focused on healing and survival rather than comfort. Kirin could practically feel the scars underneath his thick sweater, and when he turned his head down, he could see them, too, tucked beneath the very edges of the knitted wool and littered over Will's shoulder.

If it weren't such a poor move, Kirin might have hunted Parvis down and given him a good punch to the face, and the urge to do so made him frown. Kirin tucked back into Will's hair, pushing the thought aside.

“I wasn't able to see Parvis today,” Will mumbled, finally relaxing enough to settle against Kirin's back. “My body is like lead, every time I stand up.”

Kirin shushed him, rubbing his nose in Will's hair, taking in the scent of metal and wood. Mechanical smells, from all of his work, with a hint of the herbs Will used to brew his tea. “Calm,” Kirin said, his hands trailing down Will's side, long fingers wrapping over his ribs and keeping him steady. Will gasped, but didn't move away, and Kirin closed his legs a bit tighter. A safe, secure, warm place for Will to hide, if he needed it.

After a few minutes, in the dim light with a crackling fire, Will spooned in Kirin's lap, Kirin opened his eyes, and saw the glow of Will's skin. It still wasn't as bright as it had been in the days when they first met, when Will was full of energy and ready to snap at Kirin for any lines he may or may not have crossed, but they glowed bright than before. A dim green, in his freckles and the nodes of skin that were more than just pigment, up the backs of his fingers and hands, shining just enough to peek through the wide stitching of his sweater.

And down his neck, over Will's spine. Through the scars. Kirin moved, slowly, but Will was nearly asleep in his lap. Kirin brought a hand up to his shoulder, bearing Will's weight on his other side, and tugged at the edges of the sweater, pulling it aside. Some of the scars were old, still healing, and others were fresh, brighter with new blood surging to the skin, repairing the damage done to it. A long gash in particular, down Will's shoulder blade, was wide, almost a quarter of the width of Kirin's thumb when he traced over it with gentle fingers.

Will jumped, hissing. “Kirin!” he snapped, his voice weak with near sleep. “You have no-- no right to touch there!” He struggled, trying to get away.

Kirin moved his hand immediately, keeping a grip on Will. “Wait,” he said, soothing his hands over Will's sides. He settled, and Kirin shushed him again, pressing his thumbs to Will's ribs and letting Will soak in his heat. “Will,” he said, and moved a hand to stroke over his stomach, the soft flesh that felt too thin; Will hadn't been eating.

“What.” Will's voice was strained, and Kirin could see his throat bobbing with a heavy swallow.

“Would you let me touch them?” Kirin asked. “If I showed you something private of mine, would you let me look at your scars?”

“I--” Will turned, his eyes wide, his cheeks stained green with his illuminated freckles. He stared at Kirin a long moment, and asked, “What could you possibly show me?”

Kirin nuzzled Will's temple again, and backed up, leaving Will to keep his own weight as he grabbed the bottom edges of his shirt, tugging it out from the cloth tie holding it in place, parting the folds and pulling it off his arms. He hadn't taken his shirt off in front of anyone in a long while. No one needed to see what was underneath it, how his body broke more with each increase of magic, and every trick up Kirin's long sleeves that drained his energy and, subsequently, the vessel he resided in.

Will gasped when the shirt came off and dropped to the floor, clutching his tea cup so tight that his knuckles turned white.

Kirin sat, cross legged, on the floor in front of Will, bearing his torso and arms and letting Will drink it all in. After a couple of minutes, he shifted, turning, and bared his exposed back to Will, where the worst of the damage was. Kirin had seen it in the mirror, the spidering blue cracks in his skin, the tainted black edges where the magic leaked through.

If he wanted to, he could get a new vessel. Kirin would have to, before long. He'd need to ask the Central Circle for help despite not contacting them directly in months, and it would possibly take just as much time to get him an undamaged body, more so if it was meant to look like his current form. Kirin would have to disappear for quite a while.

He couldn't leave Will, not in the state Will was in. Kirin pushed the thought of a new body away, flexing his muscles to better show the wounds in his flesh.

“What--” Will stopped, and Kirin could picture the horror, the fear, in his eyes. Everyone reacted the same way to the less human parts of him.

“My magic hurts me,” Kirin said, simplifying the problem by a thousand degrees.

“What the fuck have you been _doing_?”

The tone made Kirin turn, looking over his shoulder. Will was frowning, lips pulled up and teeth bared, a new flash of bright green in his freckles with his fury. “Magic,” Will said, “is unstable, and _dangerous_ , and you've been doing things to-- to destroy your own body?! What the hell, Kirin. How could you--” He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before he looked at Kirin again. “How could you do that, knowing how much it hurt?”

Kirin bit his tongue, wishing he could ask Will the same. “I'm practically a god in this world,” he said turning around again to face the wall, bending lower to bring his shoulders up. “Do you think the magic it takes to achieve that is something harmless? Or that I don't know exactly what I'm doing with it?” Kirin paused, sighing. “I lost . . . the physical part of me, a long time ago.”

He could hear Will make a choked noise, and tensed, ready for Will to yell, to tell him to get out of Solutions Tower and never come back again.

Instead, gentle fingers touched his back, and Kirin glanced again to see that Will had knee-walked up close, running his hands over Kirin's back. They ran over the breaks where his magic was leaking from his vessel, and Kirin opened his mouth to tell Will not to touch them. But nothing happened, not even a jump, and Kirin turned back around. His magic wasn't hurting Will.

Will's hands pressed hard on the exposed skin, gentle around the wounds, and his breath came out shallow as he explored. Kirin wanted to pull him in, to sit Will in his lap and assure him everything was all right.

He'd nearly forgotten the original point to this, until Kirin felt the thick sweater brushing his skin, and thought of the scars hidden beneath.

Will curled his fingers around Kirin's biceps, and put his forehead on Kirin's shoulder. “You foolish magician,” he whispered. “Wrecking your own body for the sake of power.”

“That's rather ironic,” Kirin said. “What are you scars from, again?”

Will flinched, and Kirin mentally cursed at himself. So much for tactic. “I'm sorry,” he said immediately, “that was low.”

“It was,” Will agreed, but kept his head on Kirin's shoulder, breathing shallow but steady. Kirin could see his hands glowing where they gripped his arms, and Will had pressed up behind him, heavy sweater covering almost all of Kirin's wounds. Will still needed warmth, but the shivering had stopped, and his hold was tight, strong. A determined little technician wrapped up in a fluffy container.

It had been too many centuries since Kirin last felt an affection like he did for Will. Tensing, Kirin turned, tilting his head back, and caught Will's lips with his own, pressing a soft kiss to his mouth.

Will went stiff, surprised, but his lips parted, letting out a quiet sigh. Kirin pushed, seeking the touch, one hand bracing himself on the floor as he leaned into Will, the other resting on his leg but ready to come up in a second to cup Will's cheek.

In a second, Will’s touch was gone, and Kirin opened his eyes to see Will wiping his mouth, blushing furiously. Even his lips were glowing, the thin skin lit up with neon green blood. It was so bright, he almost looked healthy again.

“I don't—” Will's brow furrowed, sitting back with his hands resting over his ankles. “I don't need any complications in my life.”

Kirin's heart fell, and he pushed himself up, sitting straight and watching Will, who stared at the floor with glowing cheeks.

Will wasn't interested. Of course he wouldn't be. Kirin turned away, clicking his tongue. He should have known Will would be different. It had been so long since he'd courted a human of any kind, and Will wasn't even human. The same rules didn't apply.

Kirin had thought there was something between them.

“I'm sorry,” he said, moving back to give Will more space. “That was my mistake.”

“Don't--” Will started, looking up sharply. He stopped, and swallowed.

“I can--” Kirin tried to offer, voice catching. “You're still cold, aren't you?” he asked, looking between Will, the furnace fire, and the tea he'd put on the floor. Will had started shivering again, the glow of his freckles dimming as his body used what little energy it had keeping him alive. The scars peeked out from beneath his sweater; Kirin had forgotten about them entirely.

Instead of answering, Will braced both hands on the floor, and stood, slowly. On shaking knees, he got up, and looked pointedly at Kirin.

Kirin stood, and Will bent over to snatch Kirin’s outer robe and shirt, thrusting both at him. With narrow eyes and grit teeth, Will said, “Get out.”

“What?” Kirin took his clothes, heart fluttering at Will's words.

“I don't want to see you again while I'm sick,” Will said, clenching his hands into fists. “If I do, I'll use my dissasembler on you. Get out.”

“Will, please,” Kirin tried, stepping back even as he said it. “I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable--”

Will glared, body tense and ready to attack, with all the good it would do him. Will would hurt Kirin as much as a baby deer, but his eyes were intense and glowing just a shade brighter than the rest of him, the last of his energy poured into staring Kirin down.

A beat passed, and Kirin said, “Okay. All right, I'll leave.”

He dressed quickly, Will saying nothing as he did, and walked to the doorway. Kirin glanced back, but Will had stayed put, and showed no signs of moving. His tea was still steaming from its place on the floor, and the fire crackled, snapping the wood and tinder that stoked it. It wasn't nearly enough heat to keep Will going.

Kirin bit his lip, and turned, leaving the Solutions Tower.

He couldn't let Will go unsupervised, weak as he was. Kirin respected his wishes and stayed away from the tower, but couldn't help finding a nice tree to sit in and keep an eye on the building for a few hours. There was no activity from inside, no sign Will might have changed his mind, and when darkness fell, Kirin sighed, picking himself up and taking off into the sky.

Will could survive without him. Kirin told himself that over and over on his way back home, until he touched down in front of his door, went inside, and promptly fell to the floor. Exhaustion wore at his bones, and his human vessel called for sleep, for relief from the emotions warring it out inside of him.

He could feel the magic in his body, surging through his chest and tingling in his fingers, and Kirin wished desperately that it weren't there.


	3. Chapter 3

Judging by how hurt Will had been when he saw him, Kirin wanted to stay away for a few weeks, at least. He resisted the urge to go and visit him, instead channeling the energy into his magic.

But the spells wouldn't work the way he wanted. Summoning spells never reached the creatures they were meant to call, potions came out too strong or too weak, and every healing spell Kirin tried to make, made him think of Will, and it only drew out his frustration.

For the umpteenth time, Kirin smacked the hard wood of his base walls with a fist, growling at the altar. It refused to reach the power level he needed no matter how many damn plants he put around it, and he wanted to do a high level summoning spell just to give him a demon to capture, something to _do_ , but he couldn't do scratch with a weak altar.

There was a shift in the power around the base, the magic growing, and Kirin slumped down. Lying was here.

Quick footsteps soon followed the change in his senses, heels clicking loudly, and Kirin turned the barest amount to look at Lying standing in the doorway to his altar room. “You're being rather erratic,” Lying said, moving until they were next to the altar, looking Kirin up and down.

“Shut up,” Kirin said, collecting the vines he'd tried to spread over his altar to increase the power level. It hadn't worked, possibly because the vines were from the swamp and not the jungle, or they weren't fresh enough to replant, or any number of reasons that had Kirin wanting to kick the marble the altar was made from.

Lying's eyebrows rose. “Touchy today, are we?”

“More than.” Kirin stalked out of the altar room, gripping the vines tight in his hand. He would use them for something, damn it.

His potion room had been depleted of supplies, in all of Kirin's tries to make something of use, and he tossed the vines on the nearest chest as he dug through another one for spare bottles. Lying hung at the edges of the room, not out of caution but out of disinterest. “Is there a reason you seem to be losing yourself a bit? Should I call in a favor to get you a new vessel?”

“No!” Kirin snapped, and froze.

“No?” Lying said, barely fazed.

Kirin gripped the edges of the chest, breathing hard. “No,” he said. “I can't afford to disappear right now.”

“Why not?” Lying leaned against the wall, glamour fading a bit as one of their tails slipped out, curling in the air. “The world is at relative peace after that scuffle between the scientists and magical police ended. There probably will not be another disturbance for some time.”

“I can't,” Kirin said, taking the bottles he'd meant to find in the first place, bringing them to the kettle and setting them down on a table next to it. “I have to stay around to keep an eye on things.”

“An eye on the alien,” Lying corrected, flicking their tail.

Kirin tensed, and sighed. “Yes, to keep an eye on Will. He's not doing well.”

“You aren't doing well, either.”

“But I can handle it.” Kirin stood and faced Lying, brows drawn. “Could you leave me alone? I'll let you know when and if I need help getting a new vessel.”

“If,” Lying scoffed, rolling their eyes. They stood, tail vanishing and the long, blond ponytail behind their back lengthening the slightest bit. “Fine, I'll leave. But don't get so wrapped up in your alien that you forget to take care of yourself. Your magic is leaking from your body, I can practically see it.”

“I'm fine,” Kirin said, waving them off. “Go, terrorize some townspeople, why don't you.”

Lying grinned, showing sharp teeth. “I intend to.” Their face got soft, smile fading. “Take care, Kirin. Oh, and, if your alien hasn't already seen those hands of yours, I would keep them out of sight.” They vanished without another word, swallowed by the shadows.

Kirin frowned at their words, and looked down at his hands. He'd seen them while working, hadn't he? He must have been keeping track of their condition.

That proved wrong when he pulled his sleeves back, eyes going wide and muscles tensing. His fingertips, which had only been starting to turn black the last time Kirin got a good look, were pitch black, and splitting with blue wounds, his magic seeping through. The seams of his fingerprints were cracking, the edges where his nails met skin almost completely swallowed by bright blue magic, glowing and burning at the edges like fire.

It was eating away at his hands, and soon, would take over his entire body.

Kirin cursed, yanking his sleeves back down. He hadn't even noticed, so caught up in his magic and the distractions from Will. He was turning less and less human with every passing day.

Growling, he put down his work and left his home, out to take a walk, an actual walk along the ground with his feet, and calm down. The trees around his home, colorful and full of magic, made his senses tingle, but Kirin only slammed a hand against the wood of a tree trunk on his way past, baring his teeth and clenching his fingers.

He couldn't lose his vessel now. He didn't have the luxury of being able to get a new one.

Not while Will was still hurt.

Kirin managed to make it several hundred yards away, far enough from his base that he could no longer see it, and the sun was high in the sky now, bearing heat down on the land. He stopped, and leaned against the nearest tree with a sigh. Pulling his sleeves back again, Kirin looked at the black skin, how it threatened to swallow his hands whole.

A twig snapped, and Kirin stood immediately, covering his hands back up with his sleeves. His senses flared, dismissing the distraction of mourning his own body to feel out the dangerous presence in the area. It caught on his tongue and pulled at the base of his throat, calling to his own magic and clashing severely with it.

A moment later, some of the branches stirred, and Kirin whipped his head around to see none other than Parvis, grinning at him as he walked up. “Well,” he said, showing white teeth stained with blood. “If it isn't the illustrious Kirin, sitting alone by himself in the woods.”

Kirin faced him, stance wide and hands resting at his waist. “Parvis,” he said, calculating in his mind exactly how much power Parvis had, to sneak up on him unsuspected and send off such powerful traces of blood magic, permeating the air, practically tangible with Kirin's every inhale.

It wasn't exactly bad, but it wasn't necessarily good, either.

“Kirin,” Parvis said, crossing his arms, and Kirin could see the blood stone clutched between the fingers of his right hand. It was pulsing strong with the flow of blood from Parvis' blood altar, no doubt tucked away safe in Parvis' base. “I have a question,” he continued, shifting to lean his weight on one leg.

“Oh?” Kirin stood straighter and tried to maintain his usual composure. He could practically feel his own magic flaring out in response to Parvis', and did his best to keep a rein on it.

“I have a question,” Parvis said, turning his blood stone between his fingers, “about the flux.”

Kirin frowned, and hid the expression quickly. “What sort of question?”

“Actually.” Parvis walked a bit closer, reaching a hand up to tug at his bangs, flicking them out of his eyes. “I was hoping you could do me a favor. You remember teaching me some magic, a long time ago, don't you?”

“Of course.” Kirin had shown Parvis the ropes with gathering materials for blood magic, thinking it wouldn't come to much based on Parvis' skills and his general lack of focus. Not long after, if Kirin remembered correctly, Will had started helping Parvis. They'd had a relationship in the old world, long before blood and other forms of magic came to them, but Kirin was fuzzy on the details.

“So, you wouldn't mind doing me another favor?” Parvis asked, casually tossing his bloodstone between his hands.

That was a trap, and Kirin pursed his lips when he recognized it. “It would depend on the favor, Parvis.” And whether or not it involved Will.

“I've been trying this new magic, see?” Parvis held up his bloodstone, as if it gave any kind of proof. “And it's been going all right, but it's hard to get a handle on. I wanted your help to control it and work it into my established magic, for the sake of exploration.”

“'It'?” Kirin asked.

Parvis smiled, and laughed. “The taint, of course. That elusive magic purple stuff that everyone's been freaking out about. I _know_ the scientists, that girl and her goggle boy, have managed to learn how to use it. I want to do the same, but with my blood magic.” Parvis quirked an eyebrow. “You know how to do that, right?”

Kirin resisted the urge to growl and rise to the bait. Parvis was laying out a framework for him to agree, to prove himself by giving Parvis what he wanted. Kirin's eyes narrowed as he watched Parvis watching him.

He'd been so focused on Will, and reluctant to enter Parvis' castle without a direct invitation and a glimpse at Parvis himself, that Kirin has almost forgotten about his worries, about determining whether Parvis' blood magic was powerful enough to be dangerous. It was clear just by _looking_ at him that he'd amassed a dangerous amount of power, with how casually he tossed his bloodstone, and the red stains lining his hands and arms up to the elbows. Parvis was in deep, and by the grin on his face, he reveled in it.

That should have raised a bigger flag for Kirin than it did, but at the moment, all he could really focus on was how much he knew Parvis had hurt Will.

“So,” Parvis drawled, kicking his feet in the dirt. “Would you be willing to help me? In exchange for a few fees? I can pay you handsomely.”

“In what?” Kirin spat, without meaning to, and reeled his control back in, breathing deep.

If Parvis had noticed, he didn't show it, shrugging. “Gold, if you wanted it,” he said. “Other resources like iron or redstone. Diamonds, even. I've not much use for them.”

Aside from the fact that Parvis had just broken one of the biggest rules of sales pitches, Kirin had no interest in money or resources. He shook his head. “I don't need resources. But.” Kirin looked over Parvis, from his wide smile to his gangly legs. “There _is_ something you could do for me.”

This was a dangerous game, he knew, and it needed careful navigation. One wrong move, and Kirin would back himself into a corner with promises. He couldn't let this opportunity slip by, though, not when Parvis was right in front of him and practically offering himself.

“What is it?” Parvis asked, standing up straighter.

Pausing, Kirin said, “If you would be willing to release Will Strife from your partnership in exchange for my services, I can help you bridge the gap between your magic, and the taint.” He'd chosen his words carefully, tiptoeing around an actual promise, and looked confidently into Parvis' eyes as he spoke.

If he could control what Parvis did with the taint, it would minimize the damages. And from what he'd seen so far, Will wasn't capable of fighting his way out of their relationship. Whatever it was tying him to Parvis-- a deal, a friendship-- it held Will tight in its grasp, and he'd rather get scar after scar from repeated injuries than simply tell Parvis _no_. Will was a strong man, and capable of telling someone no. Parvis' hold had to be binding, to override that.

Kirin would get Will away from Parvis, if Will couldn't do it himself.

Parvis laughed as soon as Kirin finished speaking, loud and long, and Kirin flinched away from the noise. “ _Release_ Will?” he asked, laughing again. “What do you mean by that?”

Kirin frowned. “I mean, leave Will Strife alone and never bother him again.”

That set off another round of giggles from Parvis, and he put a hand to his mouth, the other clutching his stomach as he snickered. “Oh, boy,” he said, when he'd calmed, straightening up. “That was a laugh and a half, I tell you.” Looking Kirin in the eye, Parvis said, “Will is my best assistant, and he helps me because he _wants_ to be helping me. I'm not giving that up.”

“Will doesn't need to be helping you,” Kirin said, curling his fingers to dig the nails into his palm. “And don't think I haven't seen the marks you leave on him.”

Parvis twirled his blood stone between his fingers, rolling his eyes. “Will's such a baby about those. Look, if you don't want to help me, just say so.” He tossed the stone in the air and caught it again, finally replacing it around his neck, letting the leather cord settle around his throat. He met Kirin's eyes. “I wanted to speedtrack the learning process a bit, but I'm fine with managing the taint on my own. Will can help me with the research bits.”

Kirin's shoulders tensed, arms flexing with the need to hit something. Preferably Parvis, right in his face. But he wasn't a monster, he wouldn't stoop to such levels.

Even if Parvis was using Will like a dish towel.

“Well,” Parvis said, sighing and leaning forward to rest his weight on the balls of his feet, “if you won't help me for less than that, I guess we don't have any business with each other. Such a shame, we could have both benefited from working with the taint.” He jumped, and rose in the air. Kirin could feel the swell of his magic, how it commanded gravity itself to bend around Parvis. “I'll just have to get Will to help me.”

“Parvis,” Kirin tried, but he was already flying up, far away from him, laughing as he went.

Kirin grit his teeth, ready to rise up and go after him, when something twinged. He stopped, sucking in a breath, and when he tried to move again, he could almost feel his insides snap in half.

A surge of electricity went through him, from his toes to his head, and his fingers ached, suddenly feeling like the weight of a mountain was pulling at the edges. Kirin groaned, gritting his teeth, and looked down at them.

The skin beyond the tips of his fingers had split, running down his knuckles and over the back of his palm. The cracks split open his flesh and revealed blue and black magic, seeping under his skin and covering any semblance of flesh Kirin had built up. It leaked as he watched it, trails of electric blood pouring rivulets down his arms.

When he moved again, Kirin could feel the tacky stick of blood on his back, and he knew the skin there had bled, as well.

He turned and ran, back the way he'd come, to his home. Branches whipped into his many eyes and caught on his antlers, robes sliding open as they fell with the weight of his blood, pulling against his skin.

Once in his house, Kirin slammed the door shut behind him. He leaned against it for a moment, closing his eyes, feeling the throb of magic, how his blood spilled over the edges of his wounds.

Healing. He needed healing spells.

Kirin had to put himself back together, he couldn't let himself lose his body. Not when Parvis was messing with taint, not when Will was in danger. He had to keep it together.

Resting his head on the door, antlers turned away from the wood, Kirin panted hard, and slid to the floor, legs crumbling underneath him. He wasn't sure if he _could_ keep it together.

A burst of fire went through Kirin's body, stinging his muscles and bones, and Kirin gasped, looking up. Lying had appeared from the shadows, fox tails whipping back and forth behind them. “What in the world are you _doing_?” they hissed, stalking up to him. “What happened?”

“I--” Kirin could barely say that much, and pulled back his robes instead. The bleeding had stopped, for the moment, but his skin was still open, the gashes exposed. Electric blue blood and pulsing magic laced over what was left of his human flesh, his hands stained black. “Please,” Kirin said, taking long, heaving breaths. He looked up at Lying, letting his desperation leak through his emotional control. “Lying, you have to help me. I need a new vessel, and I need it _fast_.” Speaking took too much effort, and Kirin coughed when he finished.

Lying relaxed, rolling their eyes. “That's not possible. You and I both know it takes months to do that, and I'm not even sure I could get Su to help me.” Eyeing them for a moment, Lying said, “If you don't care to struggle with your vessel, I suggest you unleash your more . . . _unsavory_ form, for a while. You could probably use the breather, anyway.”

“I can't!” Kirin pushed his hands against the wall, bracing himself, and slowly stood. His antlers hit the walls more than once, and his legs trembled with the effort of holding both his weight, and the magic pouring from the vessel. “I can't,” Kirin said again, turning his head down to meet Lying's eyes, now that he stood. “I have to help Will. Parvis--” He stopped, breathing shakily. “Parvis has taint. I ignored him to tend to Will and I didn't see-- he's got taint and he wants to mix it with his blood magic.”

“Well,” Lying said, eyes narrowing. “That's a bit of a problem, for you.”

“For everyone,” Kirin hissed. “Parvis is _powerful_ , and I should have checked on him sooner. I should have-- but I didn't.” Kirin put a hand to his chest, biting the inside of his cheek. “I have to stop him,” he whispered.

Lying crossed their arms. “I don't see how, in this condition.”

Kirin tried to speak again, but thunder cracked, and lightning struck just outside, bright enough to blind him for a moment. When Kirin lowered his hand from his eyes, he saw rain outside, beating against the windows, and clouds had blocked the sun.

A storm.

A storm that Kirin hadn't started.

He grabbed the door handle, yanking it open as fast he could, and stumbled outside. Magic pounded just under his skin, digging its claws into him and stinging as though it were dragging the vessel itself apart, though Kirin was still, luckily, mostly intact. He lost all focus of his body when he got outside, staring up at the sky.

A purple tint colored the clouds on the horizon, and magic, magic that didn't come from Kirin or from the environment, was crawling across the sky, touching the edges of the clouds and dripping down like a slow rain. The hair's on the back of Kirin's neck rose, muscles going tense.

Whatever Parvis had planned, he'd started it after Kirin rejected his offer.

And Kirin might already be too late.

Kirin bent over, the flaming irritation in his chest too much, his human heart suffering under the flood of magic. Something touched his arm, and Kirin looked up to see Lying, patting him awkwardly. “You're in trouble,” they said.

“I am aware,” Kirin spat back. “Can you-- please--”

“A temporary solution,” Lying said, taking Kirin's arm and guiding him back inside. Once the door was shut, Lying pushed Kirin against the wall, propping him up, and clasped their hands together. Their tails spread out behind them, fanning parallel to the floor. Their witch hat tilted forward, covering their eyes, and when Kirin flicked his gaze down, he could see the red of Lying's eyeliner dripping down their face in thick streams.

Lying focused, whispering under their breath, their clothes getting damp as they spoke quick, quiet words. Kirin closed his eyes, panting. He'd seen Lying do their magic before, how it wore away at their glamour and picked apart the careful facade they'd built for use around others.

The magic surged within him, rising up and boiling over, and Kirin grit his teeth, pushing into the wall, throwing his head back far enough to dig his antlers into the wood. Stinging pain rushed down his spine, agony tearing at his muscles and skin, and something deep within him popped, pressure bursting outward.

Lying panted hard, looking at him, face streaked with mascara and the blood lining their eyes. Their hair hung heavy around their shoulders, clothes slapping against their arms as they put them down. “It's temporary,” they said, “but it will help you get to your alien.”

Kirin looked at his hands. The blackness was still there, swallowing them, but the cracks in the flesh had sealed together. A strong hit or powerful spell would break the seal, but it would help him move, if he didn't have to pull at broken flesh with each step. “Thank you,” he said, looking Lying in the eyes and bowing his head. “Thank you very much.”

“You owe me,” Lying said, and moved past him, opening the front door. They pointed outside. “Go get him.”

Kirin ruffled their hair as he passed, ignoring the sound of protest, and rushed out, breathing easier and moving smoothly. He took to the sky as soon as he had the clearance, spotting the purple haze on the clouds.

“Good luck!” Lying shouted from the ground, and when Kirin glanced back, he saw they had their hands cupped around their mouth. “I won't see myself involved in mortal issues,” they added, and dropped their hands, shadows engulfing them almost immediately.

Kirin turned and sped after the purple tint in the sky, heart beating fast. He could feel his own magic pushing at the edges of his body, trying to snap the seal Lying had placed, and he growled as he willed it to calm down. He could break his vessel all he wanted after he knew Will was safe.

The path to Castle Parv was a long one, but Kirin knew it well enough, moving south as fast as his lightning would carry him. Thunder and lightning strikes rolled across the sky, piercing the clouds made by Parvis' magic, illuminating the ground below to combat the darkness imposed by the clouds. Kirin kept as low to the ground as he dared, until he saw the castle on the horizon, the haze of purple aura and the powerful wall of magic around it, and veered up.

Sparks danced around the castle walls, over the roof, and the smell of burning wood hit Kirin's nostrils first. The magic of Parvis' spell was sizzling over the weak roof of the castle, cooking it from the inside out as the temperature ratcheted up. Beads of sweat pricked the back of Kirin's neck, and he concentrated long enough to will the rain through the clouds he'd summoned, fighting the unnatural heat with gentle drops that soon turned to a downpour.

He flew around the walls, to the front of the castle, and stopped, frozen in the air.

Parvis' altar had been set up outside, a captured aura node reacting to the blood magic and spilling sparks over the air and ground, lashing out with excess magic. Ritual stones had been set up around it, creating a vague, incomplete cube and drawing in power, glowing bright red and feeding the altar. Kirin's rain did nothing to wash it away, and the altar itself pulsed with life, fresh blood collected in the well at the middle of the stones.

Lightning struck the water all around the island, thunder rumbling loud enough to deafen, and Kirin snarled, an animalistic sound that pulled up from his chest and spilled out his throat.

In the center of the blood ritual, leaning over the altar, was Will. He wore no shirt, and a deep gash had been sliced over his chest, glowing green blood gushing out and filling the altar, the green tint lost as soon as it mixed with the red blood the altar naturally held. But the glow stayed, the pulse of the altar and its ritual stones getting brighter with each drop that Will's body lost.

There were smaller cuts over his shoulders and the insides of his arms. Will had his mouth open, breathing heavily, eyes half closed. On the opposite side of the altar, Parvis loomed over him, hands on his hips, grinning wildly. Thunder cracked louder as Kirin's rage lit within him, the fire of his emotions lashing out with harsher rain and bright lightning that struck the ocean, skittering across the water's surface.

Parvis looked up at the commotion, still grinning as he spotted Kirin. Will glanced up as well, eyes going wide. He gripped the edges of the altar, trying to stand, but blood only poured in deeper rivers down his chest, and his legs gave out. Will cried out as he fell back over the altar, and his paled by too many shades, the glow of his freckles barely visible as his body tried to keep him alive.

Laughing, Parvis turned back to his ritual, barely acknowledging Kirin, and snatched his bloodstone from where it sat at the very center of the divot in the altar, glowing green and purple and red. The aura node crackled above their heads, and the second Parvis had the stone in his hand, he launched himself up, flying up and away from the ritual, clutching the bloodstone in a tight fist.

Kirin could see purple stains over his face, covering his eyes, and his body glowed with a weaker version of the fluorescence Will had.

Parvis had stolen Will’s blood and mixed it into himself, along with the taint, multiplying his power. The sense of the magic broke over Kirin's skin, and he hissed.

It had taken Parvis only a few seconds to notice him and grab his bloodstone, and it might have been a few seconds too long. Will breathed hard, but Kirin's attention was drawn away by Parvis' laughter, flying close until there was only a few feet between them.

Kirin didn't hesitate.

He snarled and threw himself forward, aiming to hit Parvis where it hurt. But Parvis dodged easily, flying away, the veins in his hands throbbing as he held the bloodstone tighter. The purple stains around his eyes swirled, resting within his body but unattached, freely moving. When Parvis grinned, Kirin could see red stains against the whites of his teeth.

Parvis flew forward, faster than blood magic should ever allow him to do, and Kirin spun to avoid the hit, hissing under his breath. Parvis whirled around without pause, electricity and fire crackling around his head. Rain poured down his skin, the blood like paint on Parvis' arms, damp hair sticking to his forehead, t-shirt clinging to his chest.

Kirin's own robes flapped against his arms as the wind picked up, rain coming down harder in his rage. The seals Lying had placed were threatening to break, his magic rising with every movement, and Kirin concentrated on summoning the worst attack spells he could think of. Lightning, fire, drowning, curses, anything that could take Parvis down. He flew backwards as he did, slowly, enticing Parvis.

“Kirin,” Parvis said, moving close, like Kirin wanted him to. “How kind of you to let me show off my new powers.”

“You're killing Will.”

Parvis laughed. “He gave himself up to me. He deserves what he gets, don't you think?”

Kirin tensed, resisting the urge to throw himself at Parvis again. Rage wouldn't get him anywhere, and if it rained harder, he would have to waste magic clearing it just so he could see properly with his weak vessel’s eyes, despite how many he had. “This isn't right,” Kirin said, curling one hand into a fist as he summoned the worst curse he could manage while flying, half his attention settled on Parvis.

Parvis leaned back, kicking his legs out in front of him on an imaginary stool. “What's really _right_?” he asked, snorting. “We all struggle to survive and collect power, protect ourselves, and suddenly when someone has too much power, it isn't right? You're quite the hypocrite, there, with all that fancy magic at your disposal.”

“I never hurt _anyone_ ,” Kirin hissed. He glanced at Will, trying to see him under the mess of rain and lightning, but they'd flown too far away for more than a bare assessment. He could see the glow of the altar and the bend of Will's form, and not much else.

Parvis twisted again, keeping a proper standing position in the sky. “That's a lie, I bet.”

Kirin's skin cracked, pulling against the seals, and he could feel it snapping at the edges of his horns, his vessel breaking under the pressure. “Controlling the taint won't improve your magic!” he screamed, over the roaring vortex of wind that spun around them, trapping them both in the sky. Kirin wouldn't let Parvis back on the ground after he'd made the mistake of leaving Will's side. He continued, “The taint damages everyone who submerges themselves in it!”

“Ah, but that's the thing, isn't it, Kirin?” Parvis wiped a thumb across his lips, smearing his own blood across it, down his chin. “What's _bad_ for everyone else is _fantastic_ for me.”

He dove forward again, and Kirin ducked, the dance beginning with barely a moment's notice.

Parvis kept the bloodstone curled in his fist, throwing punches and thrusting his limbs out, summoning spells and attacking Kirin physically, waiting for whatever worked first. The spells, energies that collected in Parvis' palms and shot at him like bullets, grazed over Kirin's skin, not hitting him but coming close, and getting closer as Parvis got the hang of battling in the sky.

Kirin threw the best he had, but between the storm and his vessel cracking with every flare of magic inside him, the best he had wasn't nearly as good as he wanted it to be. An elemental spell hit Parvis in the chest, but after a grunt and a brief dive, avoiding Kirin by flying low, the burn from enchanted water that had ripped apart Parvis’ shirt and torn his skin, healed itself. Parvis smiled at his bloodstone and kissed the surface, before glaring up at Kirin and flying back toward him.

Kirin tried to find Will, to see if he was even _there_ or if the worst had happened, but every time he did, Parvis tried to take advantage of the distraction, and Kirin forced himself to push him back, whipping up walls of wind and trying to control his movement. Parvis gasped against the battering wind, but never lost composure for long, wiping wet hair from his face and clasping his hands together to summon yet another spell, the bloodstone glowing bright between his fingers.

There was no telling how much the altar had taken from Will by now.

 

* * *

 

Haze. Blood and sweat and _heat_ , and none of it made opening his eyes any easier.

Will breathed hard. He was pale and dizzy, and every time he blinked, his head pounded. He tried to focus, to see what was going on around him, but Parvis had cut him deep. The gash in his chest bled copiously, complemented by the smaller cuts on his arms, and every movement felt like trying to lift lead. His vision was a mess of reds, greens, and purples, and Will hissed through his teeth.

Parvis had stormed into the castle, muttering words about demi-gods and favors, and pulled Will to the altar room, taking him from the books he'd been taking notes on for Parvis' sake. Parvis had dropped him in front of the altar and claimed he wanted to do the blood binding spell _now_ and could Will please help him move the altar.

There was an aura node outside, something Parvis had caught when he visited the tainted land, and he'd taken the heavily warded jar that held it while Will brought out his disassembler and took down the major components of his altar.

He hadn't imagined the spell would go down quite like this, although the massive set up of ritual stones should have been a hint.

Now he was bleeding and half dead against the altar, and if Will squinted hard enough and ignored the pounding in his head, he could look up and see the two figures in the sky. Black and red clashed with blue, spinning through the sky and whirling around one another, so high up that Will wouldn't be able to make out their features even if he could see properly.

Will put his forehead against the edge of the altar, ampullae tingling at the closeness to the blood magic, his own blood swirling within the altar's depths. Even that much made him pant, knowing his body was using what little energy it had to warn him of danger. Will gripped the sides of the altar, struggling hard to force himself up like he had just a minute ago.

Voices drifted to him from above, and Will looked up again. The figures, Parvis and Kirin, had stilled in the air, and the tornado that surrounded them drowned out the coherence of their words. When they went silent, Parvis flung himself at Kirin, purple magic crackling in the form of short lightning bolts, striking at Kirin in hopes of landing a hit.

If they kept going, Parvis might actually take Kirin down, and Will shuddered at the thought.

He tried hoisting himself up again, using the altar as leverage. He'd managed it before, barely. He couldn't let himself fall a second time.

Will's disassembler rested on the side of the altar, just out of reach. Parvis had asked him to put it down for the ritual, and Will foolishly listened. No weapon, no armor, just standing before Parvis' knife with a bare chest and an unsettled feeling in his gut. There wasn't a chance for do-overs or regrets, and Will forced his eyes open, zeroing in one the disassembler. There were several feet between him and it, and he had no idea if he could make it that far.

Parvis laughed, loud and ringing, the sound crashing over him as it drifted from the sky. Will breathed hard again, pulling himself to his feet, arms braced on the altar.

Once standing, he took a moment, his head swirling. The dizziness almost caught him, sending him toppling sideways, but Will tightened his grip around the edge of the altar, shuffling slowly around the edges. His heart beat like a jackhammer, pumping what little blood he had left, the green fluid dripping over his chest and arms. His entire torso was stained and glowing faintly, though most of the bioluminescence had been taken from him. He'd seen Parvis glowing, just before he confronted Kirin and took to the sky.

On the adjacent side of the altar, Will could almost reach his weapon, and knelt down as slowly as he could manage. His foot slipped, and he braced himself with both arms out, falling over the altar again. His face dipped so close to the center, he could taste the blood in the back of his throat when he inhaled. Will choked and backed up, sitting on his haunches and coughing.

The disassembler. He had to focus.

Will looked at the sky again. Kirin was higher than Parvis, diving down to him, and Parvis shot something viscous and red from his hands, with the aid of the bloodstone, hitting Kirin in the chest. Kirin bore right and fell a good distance, before slowly flying back up to Parvis' level. Blue electricity crackled around his body, but he was lagging, falling behind Parvis' every move. He would lose soon, at this rate.

Pushing himself on his knees, Will leaned down, reaching out. His hands barely touched the handle of the disassembler, and he shifted forward until he could properly wrap his hand around it. The weight of it nearly made Will topple over his own legs, and he gripped the heavy altar stones, their rough surface scraping his palm, drawing more blood.

Once he had a grip on it, Will pulled the staff of the weapon into his lap, and unfolded his legs from under him. With one hand still holding the edge of the altar, he braced his feet on the heavy stone and dragged himself up, panting hard, muscles straining. He kept a grip on the disassembler as well as he could, its weight keeping the head of it firmly on the ground. Will grit his teeth, standing on shaky legs, and released the altar to get a hold of his weapon with both hands.

Hefting it was no small matter, and Will mentally braced himself before he pulled, the disassembler scraping over the altar's base. He spread his legs in a wide stance, and ignored the extra gush of blood from his chest as he hoisted the disassembler up, to his chest level, and higher, holding it as best he could over his head.

The first swing missed, landing just to the side of the altar. “Damn it.” Even the small curse took effort, and Will licked his lips, glancing at the sky. Lightning bolts shot from Kirin's body, and the purple aura trailing after Parvis had grown stronger, a cloud of taint wrapped around his body.

He tried again to swing the disassembler, hands almost slipping in his own blood. It carried over his head with its own momentum, and Will struggled to keep it from falling behind him, arms shaking and legs strained. His chest puffed out, every breath aching in his chest, and he gathered what little strength he had left to bring the disassembler forward.

It fell more than he swung it, relying on gravity to carry the head of the weapon where it needed to go. It splashed into the pool of blood, and for a moment Will feared it wouldn't be enough, that it wouldn't hit where it needed in order to break the magic.

But the head of the disassembler smashed against the bottom of the divot holding Parvis' and his own blood, cracking hard against the stone. Will released the handle, letting it swing up as the weapon crashed into the center of the altar. There was a grating sound, like teeth scraping against each other, and Will fell back, stumbling off the altar's base and landing on his back.

Blood poured out, bursting from the top of the altar and leaking out the sides. Deep red, purple taint, and the green of Will's blood, all trailing down the sides of the altar and over the ground. Cracks spidered along the stone walls, filled with blood in moments, and the puddle flooded the earth at Will's feet, staining his pants and skin. He crawled back, but the adrenaline rush had faded, and his vision blurred.

With a shaky breath, Will turned on his side, and let his head fall. He could barely keep his eyes open, and his chest hurt, the burn of the wound as well as the drain on what little energy he'd managed taking all the warmth he had left. He shivered, taking in ragged breaths, and in the back of his mind, he wished for nothing more than to go back to his tower and curl up by the furnace.

Someone screamed, long and jarring. Will jumped, but couldn't be asked to look, to try and find out whether it was Parvis or Kirin crying in pain. He closed his eyes, willing away the sight of the blood still soaking the ground, his own life essence mixed with Parvis' and the blood of whatever creatures Parvis had sacrificed to the altar in his quest for power.

Sound and touch were fading, the world blurring even without looking at it, and Will had a vague sense of warmth settling next to his side, and a quiet voice, before he lost consciousness.

 

* * *

 

In seconds, the fight was over.

One moment, Kirin had his hands out, ready to throw the worst ice spell he had in his arsenal to try and freeze Parvis, and maybe get a few moments to tend to Will. As he'd closed the gap between them, though, Parvis suddenly seized, the color draining from his face.

Then, the blood curdling scream, just before Parvis fell from the sky.

Kirin watched with wide eyes as his body dropped like a stone, crashing to the ground. Even in the sky, he could hear the crunch of the bloodstone under Parvis' body, and saw a spasm, before he went still.

Another moment of hovering, watching Parvis to see if it were some kind of trick, before Kirin descended fast and hard to the ground, landing with both legs under him and curling his body up to avoid breaking fragile bones. He glanced over, but Parvis continued lying still, lips parted, breathing shallowly. He was alive, but barely, and the magic of the taint had ebbed away. The hair of the back of Kirin's neck rose, but Parvis' power had gone. The crumbled remains of his bloodstone peeked out from under his side, where Parvis had landed directly on it.

Kirin didn't waste time checking if he was wounded, if he would live. He had more important matters to attend to, and he searched, looking for the altar and its ritual stones.

When he spotted them, Kirin ran, stopping just inside the ritual's barrier, eyes wide as he looked at Will, collapsed on the ground, covered in the red and purple stains leaking from Parvis’ altar.

Kirin knelt beside him, hands shaking as they hovered over Will's body. The wounds were bleeding worse than before, and he was barely breathing, skin pale and without the traces of a glow that they'd had before. His blood had darkened, losing the bioluminescence, the shade matching the blood stained grass beneath them rather than the light of the fireflies Kirin had always thought of when he looked at Will.

He pressed his hands over the slice on Will's chest, trying to stem the flow, but the blood wasn't clotting. It refused to stop, opened by blood magic and unable to be sealed without the help of the person who spelled Will's flesh in the first place. But Kirin wouldn't let Parvis touch him again, even _if_ the man had currently been conscious.

Kirin poured as much healing magic as he could into the wounds, but it clashed against the blood magic touching the edges of Will's flesh, rejected harshly by it, and Kirin could feel his own flesh coming loose with every bit of energy spilling over his skin. Lightning crackled around him, and any second, the vessel would fall apart. He would lose his human form, and lose Will in the process.

If the altar were still intact, Kirin might have been able to use it, to connect to the magic in the altar and force it to close Will's wounds. It couldn't be helped; if the altar were intact, Parvis would be awake and ready to kill them both. Will had done the smart thing.

Kirin pushed harder against the wounds, dark green blood spilling over his fingers, running down Will's chest. Will breathed in light, quick breaths, eyes closed but twitching. His skin was cold to the touch, even his blood barely warm, and Kirin grit his teeth, pushing harder, trying to imbue healing magic into his touch. His shoulder started to shake, and he could feel his body protesting. His tail lashed out behind him, broken from its glamour, and the blackness that had covered his hands now stretched up his arms, underneath his robes, pulling on pliant flesh and muscle with every shift Kirin made.

Will's lips parted further, and his eyes fluttered. He choked, chest shivering as yet more blood seeped from it, and he opened his eyes just enough to look blearily at Kirin, for Kirin to see how glassy his gaze was. The bright green had gone, replaced with the color of aloe, milky with only traces of the shade Kirin loved.

“Stop,” Will whispered, so faint Kirin almost missed it.

“Does it hurt?” Kirin asked, not moving his hands from Will's chest, but curling the fingers to avoid clawing him. He hadn't even registered that he had claws until that moment, but there they were, black and curving out from the tips of his fingers.

Will shook his head, coughing again. “Even you,” he said, and paused, inhaling shakily, his voice sounding like gravel. “Even _you_ have limits,” he managed.

Kirin frowned, his tail thumping hard on the grass. “I won't let you die,” he hissed.

“I was prepared,” Will admitted, closing his eyes again. “Parvis was always . . . too ambitious.”

“So you'd let him kill you?!” Kirin growled, sitting up on his knees and putting as much pressure as he dared against Will's chest, trying not to break his ribs or restrict his breathing. The blood didn't heed his attempts to heal the flesh, forming a barely glowing puddle on Will's stomach. His robes drooped over Will's body, soaking up the blood, and it stained his pants from where it had collected in the grass and dirt. No doubt if Kirin bothered to look, the edges of his tail would be coated in it, too.

Resigned to the continuous bleeding, Kirin put a firm hand around the back of Will's neck, bracing his chest with the other and moving him to a sitting position. Will groaned, trying to bring a hand up to shove at Kirin, but it was like a kitten's touch, grazing over his robes and landing weakly in Kirin's lap. “Don't,” Will tried, coughing again.

“Shut up for a minute,” Kirin murmured, patience flown out the window along with every sense of dignity and pride. Once Will was up, Kirin shifted, placing both his thighs around Will's hips and straddling him, careful to keep his weight off of Will, and clasped both hands over Will's neck, forcing Will to look at him. His eyes were barely open and still pale, but when Kirin looked into them, Will stared back, breathing shakily, and Kirin could see the fear rooted there. Will was prepared to die, but he didn't _want_ to, and that was enough distinction for Kirin to keep trying.

He poured as much magic as he could into Will, his own body filling to the brim, almost bursting, and Kirin tried to tame it while still letting every inch of power he had go into Will. Kirin brought their foreheads together, carefully settling Will between the brackets of his antlers, and let the increasing contact of skin on skin serve as a conduit.

The blood magic in Will's body pushed against it like a wall. Kirin growled and pressed harder. He could feel electricity dancing over his skin, burning his blood. He tensed and dropped his hands without thinking, eyes popping open when he realized he'd let go of Will.

Will held himself up, however. It was barely, arms shaking as they braced on the ground, but he did it, and looked up at Kirin. “Don't,” he said, voice scraping in his throat. He shook his head to emphasize his point, and stopped, hissing at the pain. “Don't keep trying,” Will said, clenching his fingers in the grass, pulling up bloodied blades. “I won't heal.”

Kirin took Will up again, hands on his neck, weight kept inches above him to avoid crushing him, his eyes hard as he looked at Will.

“Come on, Will,” he said, even as he felt his body coming apart, the flesh pulling as electricity burned over him, his antlers shedding the light of the Twilight Forest and all the magic Kirin had imbued his vessel with. He pressed his thumbs to the underside of Will's jaw, keeping his head up and looking at Kirin. Softer, he said, "The resident solutions man is out of commission. So let me find a solution for this."

Will's eyes were still glassy, blinking slowly at him, and his skin looked like a thick paste, grey and too human for someone who glowed with firefly light. He laughed weakly at Kirin's words, shoulders slumping, and mumbled something. Kirin leant closer to catch it, and Will took a sharp, shallow breath, saying, “Do whatever you want. Never stopped you before.”

Kirin let himself laugh, too, but Will was still losing blood and they didn't have much time.

Something had to give, and it wouldn't be Will's life.

Kirin let the seals break, his own and Lying's, and, like popping a cork on a bottle, his magic surged out of him, burning across his flesh and taking up the air around him, catching him in a thick, viscous aura. Kirin growled, and the sound was no longer human, something low and deep ripping from his throat. The delicate claws on his fingers extended, and his legs changed, morphing their shape. His clothes tore as his body grew and bent, and the last of his human flesh melted away, as Kirin sent every bit of magic he had into Will's body, willing the blood magic to break and for his body to heal.

He nearly punctured Will's flesh, his claws too close to his neck, and Kirin held on to him as long as he dared before he let go, with enough peace of mind to put a hand to Will's back and lower him gently to the ground, before he jumped up and staggered back. He stumbled, unused to this form after months in a vessel. He couldn't stay upright on two legs, and dropped to his fours, feeling out the mental map of his body. Clawed front feet, hooves on his hind legs, sharp canines to tear at flesh. Blackened skin that he could see when he looked down at himself, and muscles and bone reshaped to a quadrupedal walk. His tail lashed out behind him, heavy and strong, and Kirin's ears, now at the top of his head, flicked back and forth.

Kirin took stock of Will, and found him asleep, but breathing. The deep wound in his chest had healed, the bleeding stopped, and he was even glowing again. It was faint, like a nightlight compared to his usual brightness, but it was more than before, and Kirin breathed easier at the sight of it.

There was one last thing to do.

Kirin couldn't let Will see him like this. He'd worked hard to keep his demonic body under wraps, and he would be damned if he let a little errant magic ruin that. Will wouldn't want to see him like this.

With careful touches, Kirin put his claws underneath Will, lifting him up in a bridal carry, and struggled to stand on his hind legs. They bent awkwardly, and he nearly fell with Will in his arms, but Kirin managed to stand, and walk.

Solutions Tower was too far to go, on legs not made for bipedal movement, with his claws threatening to puncture Will's skin the longer he held him. He used what little magic he could manage to walk over the water, away from the island and Castle Parv. Kirin took him as far as he could, away from Parvis and closer to home, and eventually found a small clearing to put him in.

He rested Will against a tree, turning from him to dig up dirt and wood from the forest and pile it around him for a makeshift shelter. It wasn't the best, but it was better than nothing, and Kirin wouldn't leave Will defenseless while his body recovered. Kirin didn't have any of his tools with him, not after shifting, but the claws and fangs would be enough for a while.

For a moment, Kirin sat and watched him, the way Will's chest moved steadily and how his eyelashes fluttered in his sleep. Will tried so hard to be human, rejecting his alien periods of rest and working to make his business profitable. He'd been upset when he first saw Kirin's vessel breaking, the way the magic leaked out.

He wouldn't want to see Kirin as this, as a demon.

As he moved to leave, Kirin leaned in close, lifting clawed fingers and tracing one over Will's cheek, just to feel the touch, and drew back quickly. Will stirred at his touch, brow pinching together and body shifting, and Kirin fled. His heart beat quickly, blood pounding, and he ran until he found the thicker parts of the trees, ducking between the trunks and curling under the low branches.

After a moment's hesitation, Kirin turned back, and through the trunks and tree limbs, he saw Will get up. Will stumbled on weak legs, and Kirin was tempted to go and help, but Will braced himself against the tree he'd been sleeping on, balancing.

With slow, careful steps, Will started to walk, glancing up and catching sight of his tower, on the hill over the horizon. Kirin slunk back, feeling the ground under his hooves and claws, and breathed easier knowing Will couldn't see him. He had to find Lying, had to get a new vessel as soon as possible. Parvis was down for the count, but he wasn't dead, and there would be no telling how quickly Will might buckle when he inevitably came back.

Turning and running through the trees, Kirin hoped he could work fast enough, before he lost Will again.

 

* * *

 

Will hated to have magic boiling under his blood, and when he got back to the Solutions Tower, he yanked off what remained of his clothing and found the first mirror he could, to have a proper look at himself.

There were cuts all up and down his arms, his neck, smaller injuries that Will didn’t specifically remember except in a blurred memory of multiple slashes over the ritual altar.

The long gash across his chest, he recognized. Parvis had laughed as he'd put that there, speaking low about how Will was doing him such a service, offering his body to give blood to the altar. He'd started glowing almost as soon as Will's blood dropped in the center of the stones, Parvis' spell binding their blood and making him stronger. The taint samples he'd collected bound well after that, and the lightning and heat started as soon as the purple bled into Parvis' skin.

Will shuddered, thinking about it, and turned back to his own injuries.

None of them bled, and that made his brow furrow. The gash in his chest, at least, should have still been bleeding, or had a fresher scar. Instead, it was covered with the thin film of skin that a lot of his scars had, just enough to cover it and keep his blood inside while he body worked to heal him naturally.

He'd felt what Kirin did. Will had only blacked out for a short while before opening his eyes to find Kirin, skin stained black with all five eyes peering down at him. His hands had scratched over him with sharp claws, but Will had felt how gentle they were, how careful Kirin was being. Kirin had been pouring magic in him, trying to break Parvis' spell.

There was a lot of pain, at first, until Kirin took Will in his hold and let out a blood curdling wail. Will had wanted to dive away and cover his ears, but his consciousness had slipped again.

He hadn't seen Kirin afterward, but waking up in a makeshift shelter, lying against a tree, said something. Kirin had tried to protect him before fleeing, at least.

And from the looks of his skin, Kirin had healed him, too. Whatever spell or ritual he'd used, it had worked. Will wasn't bleeding, and most of the minor scratches had healed completely. He pressed a hand over the long gash, hissing at the contact. Still sore, then, even if it had scarred over.

Will could feel the edges of tiredness pulling at him already, willing him to crawl into bed and never come out. He was tempted to take the option, even knowing he'd been away from the tower for too long and that there was work to be done.

He'd left his armor at Castle Parv. Will sighed, shoulders slumping. He could make a new set, but it would take time and effort that he didn't care to expend.

For the time being, Will marched up the stairs, to his bedroom, and pulled the covers back. Outside, rain started to drizzle over the window, and Will shivered at the pressure change in the atmosphere. It seemed that despite the great blood loss and physical trauma, his ampullae still worked. That should have been an annoyance, as they'd never served him a great purpose, but Will reached over his back to run his fingers over the nodes resting on his spine. He shivered again, and sighed, dropping his hand.

He hadn't suffered much damage, it seemed, even if his heart still twisted in his chest. He needed to know if Parvis had made it out, if Kirin were still around, what had happened to both of them, and what, if anything, Parvis' taint had done to his island. All Will could think of was heat and purple stains, and he shook his head.

Rest would do him well, and after that, he could make new armor, get a new disassembler, and figure everything out. He needed time to think and clear his head, and he couldn't do that while his eyes ached and his body yearned for something soft.

Will crawled slowly into the bed, savoring the way the mattress gave underneath him, and pulled the blankets up to his chin. He'd expected to die when Parvis sunk the knife into his chest, and he was going to enjoy the living luxury of sleep for as long as he could.  

 

* * *

 

It took a few weeks to pull together a new vessel, and that was while working as quickly as magic would allow.

Kirin had made it back to his base, crawling through the trees and slinking under the noses of the other people in the area. He'd gone past the witches' house and nearly bumped into Nanosounds while she was exploring, but managed to make it back undetected. From there, it was a matter of contacting Lying and getting the help he needed.

Lying had cussed him out, with as close to cussing as Lying got, and Kirin had sat in the corner of the room growling until they finished their rant. Once emotions calmed and they could look at the situation rationally, Lying had promised to get in contact with the Central Circle and see what they could do to help Kirin.

While Lying worked, Kirin waited, nestled in his base and trying not to break everything he passed as he moved from room to room in his larger, demonic form. His claws ticked over the wood floors, hooves stamping heavily, and his back was forced to arch up as Kirin tried to squeeze into small hallways and under low ceilings. His base was made for his human vessel, not this old form, and it took some adjustments to live with.

Thankfully, Lying eventually came back with the ingredients for a new vessel, and performed the ritual to create a body that looked like Kirin's old one. Kirin had sat in silence to watch, feeling the magic tingling under his skin as potions and raw ingredients blended into flesh and bone. Once it was ready, Lying had performed another ritual to force Kirin's body into the corpse, binding them together and fusing them with Kirin's magic.

Now Kirin opened his eyes, blinking fast as he realized he only had two again, and jumped at the sound of a long groan.

“Finally,” Lying said, scrubbing their eyes. “Kirin, do you _realize_ how long this took me to put together? I cannot believe you let yourself break the vessel, it is _so_ much harder to transfer your essence while its in that old demon's body.”

“Hey,” Kirin said slowly, sitting up. He needed his robes, and crossed the room to gather an old set from one of the chests. “It wasn't my fault,” he added, as he opened a chest and started rooting through it.

Lying followed, and said, “Wasn't your _fault_? You chased after that alien boy and felt the ridiculous need to help him when he got himself into a mess.”

“Parvis was out of control,” Kirin said, pulling out some tattered robes and flicking them open, dragging the fabric over his head. His new vessel still had horns and antlers, one trait he particularly liked showing, and it spoke more about Lying than anything else did, that they had let him keep his favorite nonhuman trait visible.

“And I suppose you have to control everyone, don't you?” Lying crossed their arms, eyebrow raised. “You're going to tend to the alien now, aren't you?”

“I have to.” Kirin tied the sash on his robes, frowning at the worn material. He would make new ones as soon as he could. “Parvis is still alive, and I have no idea if he'll go after Will again.” Kirin pursed his lips. “If he hasn't already. So, I have to make sure Will isn't going to go back to him. Nothing good can come of their alliance.”

Lying snorted. “Calling their relationship an alliance is like calling your feelings for the alien 'platonic.' But, whatever tickles your fancy.” They stepped back, the shadows at the corners of the room curling towards them. “I have a few things to take care of with the Central Circle, after that fiasco of yours. I owe a lot of . . . favors.” Lying licked their lips, ponytail flicking behind their back with the temptation to let their glamour fall.

Kirin's brow furrowed, and he shrugged. “All right. Thank you for the help, Lying. I really appreciate it.” He touched a hand to his chest, tracing down. “This new vessel is perfect.”

“Of course it is, I made it.” Lying waved a hand dismissively, and the shadows stretched out, wrapping around their ankles and up their legs, until they were engulfed, and then gone.

Kirin sighed, and turned, walking up to the door of his base.

When he flew, Kirin found himself as capable as before, all of his magic and spells worked from his demon body into the new, human one. He’d lost some of his equipment during the mess with Parvis, but objects were easily replaced, and Kirin was grateful to have a vessel that would last him another few years, perhaps a bit less if he put a strain on it.

Solutions Tower stood as tall as ever, undisturbed in the weeks Kirin had been gone. Surely if Will wasn't all right, it would have been taken over by mobs or moochers looking to steal his stuff. Kirin settled gently on the grass, feeling it work in between his toes. He'd never worn proper shoes, and went barefoot now, his robes barely brushing over his knees.

He knocked once on the door, and got no reply. Kirin waited a few minutes before his anxiety ratcheted up, and he let himself in with a small mental apology and a promise to make it up to Will later. Just crossing the threshold without permission made him want to bare his teeth, and Kirin spent a minute soothing himself with deep breaths, before he started the search for Will.

He didn't find him until he explored Will's bedroom, the sparse wooden room built into a corner of the hallway, upstairs. Kirin stopped in the doorway when he caught sight of Will, laying in the bed, his eyes directly on Kirin.

During Kirin's absence, Will's skin had gotten its glow back. It was flushed with bright neon green, shining through his freckles and from his eyes. There was still a slightly pale quality to the skin itself, something that looked off, but Will was practically in top shape compared to the state Kirin had had to leave him in. “Kirin?” he said quietly, blinking. His eyes shifted over Kirin's form, trailing up from his feet to his head, before Will frowned and, slowly, sat up.

Or he tried to, and almost fell over the side of the bed. Kirin flinched, ready to help, but Will steadied himself with two firm hands, and glared, eyes narrowed and teeth showing. “Where the _hell_ have you been, Kirin?!” He shifted up, panting, until his legs were over the side of the bed. His ampullae flared with the effort, shining bright and fading in turns as Will worked himself up. “What happened to you?! Why didn't you _tell_ me?”

Kirin's lips thinned, and he turned away. He could apologize, but it wouldn't measure up to leaving Will alone and vulnerable for weeks, for letting himself take a dangerous, demonic form and risking Will's own safety.

A beat of silence passed, and when Kirin looked at Will again, he'd crossed his legs on the bed, head hanging down. Sighing, Kirin walked over and drew the blankets up, settling them over Will's legs while avoiding touching him. “I'm sorry,” he said, even knowing it wouldn't help anything. “It was my fault, Will. I was too careless.”

Will flinched, and looked up, eyes wide. “You saved me.”

Kirin laughed quietly, standing up and taking a step back. “I tried.”

“You _did_ ,” Will insisted, and reached up, grabbing Kirin's hand. Kirin went stiff, but Will only held it gently, peering at it. “You're better,” he said, and met his eyes again. “Tell me what happened. Why have you been missing? I _looked_ for you.”

Kirin's chest went tight, and he swallowed, cautiously settling down next to the bed, legs tucked under him as he sat on the floor. He was tall enough to match Will's height even as he sat below him, and Will kept a tight grip on his hand.

The marks that had been there the first time Will had looked were gone, replaced with the new vessel, and Will peered curiously at his fingers while he waited for Kirin to speak, as if the broken magic would show itself with enough inspection.

“My body,” Kirin said, taking a deep breath, “isn't natural. It's made with magic, and very powerful magic at that. If I leave it alone too long, my own powers eventually destroy the flesh, and I have to make a new one. This isn't my first body, and neither was the one you saw me in before.”

Will stopped, head snapping up to stare at him. Kirin stayed silent, letting Will process, waiting for his hand to be dropped and for Will to shoo him out.

Instead, Will's hand curled tighter around his own, and Will said, “Why didn't you replace your body when it was falling apart at the seams?”

“That's why I was gone for a long time.” Kirin leaned a bit closer to Will, hoping for extra contact, but Will didn't move, still staring at his hand. It swallowed both of Will's, thick and broad, with new skin that would quickly develop callouses as Kirin worked his magic through and over his body. “It takes a lot of magic to summon a new one,” he continued, “and a certain alien caught my eye. I didn't want to leave you, not when Parvis had influence.”

“You--” Will stopped, and started again, “You were worried about me?”

“With all those scars,” Kirin said, nodding. “A powerful person like you, constantly hurt? It wasn't hard to deduce, Will, even if you thought you were hiding it.”

A pause, as Will stroked over his hand, lips pursed, and then he tugged. Kirin moved obediently, leaning forward, but Will continued pulling, until Kirin rose up, and then sat at the edges of the bed. Will dropped his hand, looking Kirin in the eyes briefly before bringing his arms up, wrapping them around Kirin's shoulders and burying his face in the old robes draped down his body.

It was like he’d tried to hug a tree trunk, with how small Will was, and his arms didn't even reach all the way around Kirin.

Muffled words vibrated against his collarbone, and Kirin said, “What?”

Will lifted his face, and said, without looking at him, “Thank you.” He paused, licking his lips, and continued, “I can do something for you, something to pay for--”

Kirin stopped him with a hand in Will's hair, petting down over his head and neck, pressing the warmth into him. Will, in his knit sweater and clinging to Kirin's shoulders, practically melted, and his ampullae flared at the touch. “No need,” Kirin said, petting him a few more times. “Not everything has to be paid for.” He leaned down, tilting Will's head just enough to lay a kiss on his forehead.

“I--” Will stopped, swallowing as he blushed a furious green. “Y-You're one to talk!” he sputtered. “Hiding yourself, not telling me about this whole vessel thing! I spent _weeks_ looking for you.” He turned his face away, slumping into Kirin's side. “Blond hair, antlers, anything. But I never saw you.”

“I didn't look like me,” Kirin said, guilt twisting at his heart. “You wouldn't have wanted to see me.”

“Says you,” Will grumbled. “I'm always fascinated by new creatures. They have potential for farming, and . . . well, they're nice to look at.” He shifted, legs tensing as he prepared to move again.

Kirin put his hand back over Will's neck, keeping him there, and leaned back until they were both lying down. He tucked Will into his side, sure to keep his hand running through Will's hair, and caught the blanket with his feet to pull it back over them both.

“You're still healing,” he said, pushing the edges of the blanket close to Will and wrapping him up in the soft cloth.

“I heal slowly,” Will said, putting his arms underneath his pillow for extra support. “And the-- the cut in my chest was pretty deep. I can't help it if my foolish biology wants me in bed.” His eyes flicked away, and he sighed. “If you're quite done with the nurse routine, you can go now.”

“Who said anything about leaving?” Kirin brought his other arm up and stretched it over Will's waist, rubbing slow circles. “If you don't mind me here, I'd like to stay.”

Will's eyes narrowed, though Kirin could see his breaths coming easier. “Is your vessel going to break again?” he asked, throwing them so far off topic that Kirin had to blink a few times as he processed it.

Laughing, Kirin shook his head. “No, it--”

“I meant eventually.” Will's eyes were hard, the green glow lighting the room in lieu of the weak torches bolstered into the walls. It tinted his skin and the pillows, spilling over his cheeks. His hair was tussled from where Kirin had mussed it, but Will looked every part the serious businessman in that short moment.

Lips thinned, Kirin nodded. “Eventually I'll need a new one. In a few months, or a year maybe.”

“Show me, then,” Will said. “If-- If you get to stay here, with me, then I want to see what you really look like. No more . . .” Will breathed deep, gathering his words. “No more hiding.”

Kirin's eyes went wide, and he opened his mouth, prepared to argue with Will, and closed it. He'd run from Will in fear that he would see Kirin's demonic body, the thing that his magic tried to constantly control. Will worked so hard to be human, to be like the people of this world. Kirin hadn't spared a moment doubting that Will would expect the same from him.

“No more hiding,” he quietly agreed, settling his head on the pillows as best he could with his antlers, tucking the blanket more firmly around Will as he pulled his hands back.

Will caught the hand that had been on his hip, lacing his fingers through Kirin's. He could have illuminated his entire tower, with how bright his skin burned, and Kirin laughed at the sight. It earned him a glare, but Will didn't let go, only rested their hands between them and curled his fingers tight, keeping Kirin tied close.

Minutes passed, and Will closed his eyes, assured that Kirin would stay. His breathing slowed, and the glow of his ampullae faded, his body quieting. Within a half hour, he was deep in sleep, and Kirin watched him for a little while, the slack curve of his mouth and the way his eyelids twitched. He'd seen Will rest before when he was hurt, and it never stopped amazing him, how pretty Will looked that way. Not quite as nice as when Will was active and ruffled up, yelling at Kirin over silly things, but it was close.

Kirin pursed his lips, debating, before he turned on his side and snuck his free hand up to Will's stomach. He paused, but this might be the only time he had to look. Will wouldn't agree to not hiding as easily as Kirin did, and it would be ages before Will did much more than let Kirin into his space. He healed slowly, after all, and Will hadn't known how true it rang for him when he said it.

Grabbing the edges of the sweater, Kirin dragged it up, ignoring the pale and smooth skin and pulling until he could see the edges of the wound in his chest, the damage inflicted by Parvis. It was covered in the same thin, filmy skin that his other wounds were, bright green blood just under the surface. It would be a while before Will healed and normal skin replaced the scar.

Kirin could wait. He could watch Will and be sure he wasn't hurt again, and check over his scars while making Will tea and cooking up decent food. Kirin wasn't partial to caretaking-- he'd been the one taken care of for so many years, and then forced himself into independence as he explored his magic-- but he could learn to like the role. For Will's sake, and his own.

Will no longer bled, and Kirin's skin wasn't black. They could share Will's bed, Will tucked into Kirin with the blanket keeping them both warm. A low rumble of thunder started outside, rain pattering the windows and lulling Kirin's eyes closed. Will's fingers flexed around his own, and Kirin welcomed the touch.

For once, the thunderstorm didn't make Will shake and shiver, and Kirin let his powers shield them from the rest of the world, the Solutions Tower complex shrouded in rain and lightning.

 

* * *

 

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [footsteps on oak wood](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2857985) by [chailattemusings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chailattemusings/pseuds/chailattemusings)




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